An entirely new Adventure
by Ossa9919
Summary: Ok, you should know the drill by now. Dovahkiin gets summoned by Louise, shenanigans and the like ensue. I should mention that this happens a LOOONG time after the fall of Alduin; see story for details. This is my first real fanfiction, so don't go too hard on me. rated M for future violence, because really, what did you expect?
1. Chapter 1: The Summoning

**Okay everyone, this is my first fanfic, meaning you will likely find errors, spelling mistakes, large gaps between updates and other irritating details here, especially since English is my second language. This is a test, not much more.**

 **However, I will correct any and all mistakes I find if you report them to me, preferably using the review function.**

 **Also, I am terribly sorry about writing such a cliché story, but I always enjoyed Familiar of Zero crossovers and I have played over 600 hours of Skyrim, so at least on the Skyrim side there will probably be few lore errors.**

 **Blimey, I almost forgot the boring disclaimers:**

 **I do not, in any way, own Familiar of Zero/Zero no Tsukaima or The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. All credit goes to the people responsible. They are awesome and their respective creations hold a special place in my stony, cold heart.**

 **The beginning may or may not be borrowed from a very good fanfic I read a while back; if you find out which one, honorary mention for you in the next chapter! (Or the chapter I'm writing when you discover it, you never know)**

 **Also, in this very chapter there is an Easter egg of sorts concerning assassins named in numerals and space elves in the 41st millennium. If you find out where it is and what it's from, honorary mention to you in the chapter I'm currently writing!**

 **Also, this is a work of freaking fiction. Don't try any act described within at home. You have been warned…**

Chapter one: The Summoning

It is a well-known fact that in accordance to the most fundamental principles of geometry there must exist an infinite number of alternate universes. Just as an infinite number of two dimensional squares must be arranged together to create a single three dimensional cube it follows that all alternate universes must be arranged side by side in order to create a truly fifth dimensional object.

In one of these universes, on the planet known as Nirn, on a continent known to its habitants as Tamriel, in the province of Skyrim, the Fatherland, Keizaal, home of the Nords, a certain alchemist and farmer of a certain glowing and noisy root was currently facing down a sabre cat. The farmer in question, a Dunmer named Avrusa Sarethi, was as most farmers not a fighter nor a competent mage, but she drew the small elven dagger she kept under her dress, called upon her ancestors to protect her and charged the beast.

Said beast had already, together with its companion, slaughtered the only guard currently protecting the farm.

Though the guard was mortally wounded early on in the attack, he was a Nord and battled on with the knowledge that Sovngarde would welcome a warrior who had died whilst protecting the innocent from a fearsome beast. Thus, he had decapitated one of the sabre cats with his greatsword before slumping to the ground and leaving the mortal plane behind.

Sadly, this meant he could not help with the second cat.

Avrusa avoided the lashing claws as best she could, but the beast was close, and in a tight spot her dagger would not be of much use when she was mauled by the sabre cat.

The worst thing wasn't that it was probably going to kill her, but that it would then go after her sister, who lay with a bite wound in the left leg right behind them. Nothing that a potion wouldn't heal, but right now the potion lack was very evident.

As she contemplated this, the sabre cat charged her. Staying calm, she jumped out of the way and managed to score a shallow gash on its front left paw, sealing the fate of the cat. She always kept that blade sharp and, most importantly, _very_ poisonous. This victory was short-lived, however, since a jolt of realisation surged through her. The blade might be poisoned, yes, but it was a _slow_ poison, made from Imp stools and slaughterfish eggs, and it would take a minute at the very least for the poison to kill the cat when injected through such a superficial gash.

She had one thought in her head as the sabre cat turned in mid-air, something she had no idea they were able to do, landed on its four paws and growled at her.

"Azura save me."

Almost sixty meters behind her a sound, like the snap of a finger, was heard. A single crossbow bolt flew towards the beast, then the world suddenly exploded in a freezing, unnatural cold for an instant, and she was overcome with happiness. She knew only one in this area who bothered to craft those intricate bolts, and he was right on time. It had been a while since she asked for those jazbay grapes, but someone like him was probably very busy.

As the unnatural frost subsided, the sabre cat fell to its side, definitely dead, and a large amount of noise approached. Avrusa turned around to greet her saviour, having already deduced who it was.

A man, at least two meters tall if not more, clad in black armour with ominous spikes and an otherworldly red glow, and holding an equally black, spiky and glowing mace and a mismatched shield looking like a collection of discs affixed to dwemer metal, came into view as his companion followed close behind holding her thanes enhanced dwarven crossbow.

The man dropped the mace and removed his helmet, showing a ragged, Nordic face with a jaw like an anvil, a large scar across his eye, a stubby beard and short hair, red as fire.

"Avrusa, are you alright?" He said with a calm but resonating voice, like he was the only one standing in a small cave, the result of him using his Thu'um on a near daily basis.

"Yes, now that you're here. I can't imagine how things would have gone hadn't you showed up."

"Bad, probably, they usually do," The man replied remembering a certain incident early in his career involving a fellow adventurer and a badly aimed projectile. That was when he had begun taking restoration lessons. "However, I came here to deliver these to you."

The man knelt and opened his backpack, which had costed him a small house's worth of gold and a load of services to the college of Winterhold before the resident alteration teacher and the enchanting professor joined their forces and enchanted the bag to hold any item, no matter how big, as long as the weight was not too much. He then retrieved a small bag, tied together with a string attached to a label on which "Jazbay for Avrusa, 20" could be read. Giving the bag to Avrusa, he retrieved his crossbow from his follower and placed it in the backpack before closing it and standing up.

"Thank you, this will be extremely useful for the next harvest!" The alchemist was suddenly dragged back from her calculations of the probable increase in produce next harvest season by the groan of her sister, who still lay behind her. Before she could ask him, the man was already on his knees beside her, a healing spell spreading a warm glow from his hands to her sister's leg.

"There, that should do the trick. I would also suggest a potion of Cure Disease, but I know all too well how effective your potions are."

Avrusa was about to answer when a blast suddenly threw her off balance, hitting her head on part of the fence which surrounded her cabbages. The last she saw before darkness took over was a green oval, likely a portal of some kind, swallowing up the Dragonborn.

-IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE, SLIGHTLY EARLIER-

A man in his early fifties with glasses, balding brown hair and a surprising amount of muscle hidden under his mage robes was instructing his second year students how to cast a spell both simple and extremely complex; Summon Familiar. As he supported himself using his long wooden staff, Jean Colbert watched the students summon their familiars.

Nothing really surprised him except for the near unbelievable summon of a blue wind dragon, but then again miss Tabitha had always had magical power dwarfing most of her fellow students, and the salamander Kirche had summoned. He might hold a small grudge towards the girl due to her slacking off on many of his lessons, but even he couldn't deny that she too was a fire mage in her own right. He could only hope she didn't go down the path to destruction…

Ah, he had lost himself in old memories again, and so he jolted back up, trying to stay awake. He had been working through the night on his new creation, so the sleep deprivation was very much noticeable.

He raised his voice.

"Alright, has everyone successfully summoned their familiars?"

His question was met with mostly affirmative nods and murmurs, but then Kirche spoke up. "Not quite," She exclaimed with a smug look on her face, "Louise hasn't done it yet."

The student body, most carrying or standing beside an animal by this point, divided to let a small girl through. Her name was Louise, Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière. Her pink hair glistened somewhat in the sun and she wore a confident grin that didn't quite reach her eyes. However, this was not the reason the students divided so easily, or the reason they gave the girl more space than any other had got. Colbert could almost smell it in the air.

 _Fear._

They feared this girl, but apparently not enough to stop the chattering that rose up from the students.

He couldn't quite make out whole sentences, but he heard the words _Blast radius_ being mentioned several times as well as _Zero._

That was quite enough. He raised his staff and, out of old habits, summoned a large flame straight up into the air. The noise died out, and he nodded to the pinkette standing in the middle, one of his best students, especially in theoretical assignments.

The girl braced herself, and then started her chant. It was long, and more complicated than the modified ones usually were. He was impressed, she didn't call for anything specific like the more wisecracking students usually did, but asked for something magnificent, whatever that may be. A good tactic, and hopefully one that wouldn't end in disappointment like so many others had. Colbert knew all too well how many hardships the girl had gone through, and he'd hate to see her expelled for failing to summon anything.

The crowd tensed as the girl finished her chant, expecting a large explosion to occur, but they were not prepared for this. A blast of extreme strength shook the very academy to its core and threw back nearly everyone standing in the courtyard, except for Colbert, who cast a protective barrier between the Vallière girl and the centre of the explosion she had cast before being blown off his feet himself. Remarkable, such magical power, yet sadly so little control.

As the dust settled, the students rose once again to stare at the place where Louise had cast the summoning spell. As if for some sort of dramatic effect, the dust seemed to stay there much longer than was necessary. However, once the dust did settle a man stood there.

Many of the students were caught off guard by his extremely menacing armour, black as night and with a red, fiendish glow, as well as his height, huge bulk of muscle and the fact that the helmet looked remarkably like the beak of an eagle, just as it was about to eat the lamb it had captured…

Colbert stood in shock, thinking as quickly as he ever had long before when he was a battlemage. _"That is not human, at least not entirely. A demon? Why would Miss Vallière summon something like this?"_ Just as he thought that, the man removed his spiked helmet. A human, definitely a human judging by the ears (and lack of demonic horns), but still. A human, summoned as a familiar? That had not happened in millennia, if ever.

However, the professor was jerked out of his thoughts as the man recognized the body language all too well. Careful, slow movements, ready to charge at a moment's notice; this was a warrior, and judging from the way he looked, an experienced one. The man scanned the surrounding area, most of the students shaking when they came under his stare. Those were the silver eyes of a predator, born to hunt.

When his gaze had met everyone, he spoke, and his speech resonated of the academy walls until it sounded like ten men speaking.

"Where am I," The man asked no one in particular and yet everyone, "And why am I here?"


	2. Chapter 2: Introductions & Deductions

Chapter two: Introductions and Deductions

Colbert rose to his feet, brushed the dirt off of his robes and directed his attention towards the gigantic man in the black, red-glowing armour. It seemed no one dared to answer his question, so as professor employed by the Tristain Magical Academy it fell to him to do so. He strode forward to the man, until standing just a few meters in front of him, carefully positioning himself between the unconscious form that was Miss Vallière and the man. You could never be too careful, after all. Then, he spoke.

"You are at the Magical Academy of Tristain, and you were summoned here by the student behind me, who was looking for a familiar."

The man mumbled under his breath, and Colbert caught something about "conjurers always trying ridiculous things", and then he spoke.

"What's a familiar, and why do I suddenly qualify under that title? Also, where is this academy located?"

Colbert felt slightly irritated, even commoners were supposed to know enough about nobles to serve them usefully; this included the basic knowledge about familiars. Then he suddenly realized something: the man did not know where Tristain was located. He might be from a distant land where magic didn't exist for all Colbert knew.

"A familiar is a being, usually an animal, summoned by a mage as a magical partner and guardian. Regarding the other question, I assume you know of Tristain?"

The man cupped his chin into a massive hand, thought for a short time and spoke again.

"I have never heard of Tristain, nor of a practice of summoning permanent familiars not from the oblivion planes. Even so, is it normal for a human to be summoned?"

"No", Colbert replied, "Not at all. In fact, I have not heard of any human familiars being summoned for millennia, at least."

Colbert noted that most of the students seemed to skitter towards the main academy tower, whilst keeping several dozen watchful eyes towards the summoned man. _Good,_ he thought, _that will get them out of the way if anything more happens._

The summoned man thought for a moment, then asked a new question.

"What will happen to the girl if I were to, say, travel home? Also, speaking of home, have you ever heard of Skyrim?"

Colbert pondered what he should say, for this was after all a very peculiar case, but he gave the standard answer.

"Miss Vallière would likely be expelled from the academy, as she then would have no way to prove her magical prowess. She has had a history of failure, the poor thing, so she will probably be married off to some noble to secure her family's status. As for the place you call home, I have never heard of Skyrim, and I take great pride in being knowledgeable."

The Dragonborn once again cupped his chin, and thought. Despite what his rather large size seemed to suggest, he was very intelligent, and he now used that same intellect to assess the situation. He had been summoned somewhere far away, likely to another continent, at the very least. The scenery around him, green pastures and leafy forests, did not match any description of Atmora, Akavir or any of the other continents on Nirn, implying he was either on a new, unknown continent or, more likely, on a different planet altogether. That meant several things.

Firstly, the girl who had summoned him, now lying unconscious behind the bald mage, had a frightening amount of power. To actually teleport a living, non-daedric being from one planet to another, without seriously harming or modifying the being… As a quite competent mage, though not specialized in Conjuration, he realized that it would take an immense amount of magical power, likely more than any reported mage in tamrielic history to pull off this feat. The intellectual part of him didn't want to condemn her to a life of forced marriage when she showed that much potential.

Secondly, this new planet was likely home to entirely new creatures to fight and new weapons to master, something the Dragonborn had been lacking for nearly a decade after finishing off the World Eater, killing the first Dragonborn, Miraak, reducing the Volkihar vampires to piles of ash (except for Serana, of course), quelling the Stormcloak rebellion, restoring the Empire to its former glory and destroying the Thalmor. The warrior part of him nearly salivated over the prospect of a new adventure, one which didn't start out with him nearly being decapitated in a small town.

Thirdly, he looked upon the girl and saw her weak shape, now stirring. Powerful or not, she was a child, and he took care of the little ones. He had never adopted one, as he thought his life too unsure for a child, but he had funded several orphanages early on in his career and had continued to do so as he went. Several of the children actually tracked him down once they reached adulthood, asking for training to become adventurers themselves. The protector part of him felt compelled to lift his shield in defence to the little one, and that settled it.

He was staying here, at least for a time. Between the Imperial Army, the Dawnguard, the reformed Blades, his small army of housecarls, the dragons who acknowledged him as their overlord and his old friend Brynjolf, now leader of the Thieves Guild, the Empire was going be fine. Thus, he could leave Nirn, at least for a time.

After this decision, looking around him and seeing that most of the other students had retreated into the academy, the Dragonborn redirected his attention towards the mage in front of him who was currently trying and failing to pour the contents of a small bottle, likely a lesser healing potion, down his summoner's throat.

"I have decided to stay in this world, at least for a time." He released his tense shoulders somewhat and crouched beside the bald mage. "That takes too much time, let's use magic instead."

The mage paused his efforts to pour the potion down Miss Valliére's throat, but only long enough to say "Yes, I know, but I am sadly not very skilled with healing magics, leaving us no real option."

The Dragonborn flexed his right hand, causing an amber orb to appear, hovering above his palm. "Don't worry, _**I**_ am skilled with the art of Restoration." He extended his arm towards the girl and the amber glow extended to surround her body, restoring her stamina as well as healing the many bruises she got from the summoning explosion.

Colbert was shocked, his mind moved quick as lightning. This man was a noble?! No, his brain reminded him, this man was from an unknown land, it was very likely that nobility had little to do with magic there. If he was a noble, surely he would have introduced himself by now, or at the very least told them his title and runic name. Also, seeing as the summoned man didn't chant anything and used no wand, this left three possibilities.

One, he could be using the simplified and concentration-controlled art of Battle magic, so named because it was often used in battle where time for incantations were short. However, to heal with battle magic would require extreme concentration on every single wound, requiring sight of all wounds at the very least, meaning that was not a possibility.

Two, he could be using magic in another way, like how the elves were said to ask spirits for aid in battle. However the man was decidedly not an elf, and humans couldn't communicate with spirits in this way, meaning this was not the correct answer either and leaving only one possibility.

The man was using a whole other system of magic, one not requiring chanting or wandplay. This hit Colbert as lightning would a lone tree in the middle of a flat field. The man might as well be from outer space, this sort of thing had never been documented in Halkeginia. Ever.

Some would claim the man was a heathen, not using the magic system of Willpower established by the Founder. Others would keep the man in a cell, studying his every move to find his secrets out.

Colbert did neither of these, but made a mental note the size of a carpet to study the man and his strange magics further at a later date. For now, the man was standing up and Miss Vallière was returning to the land of the awake.

Sitting up and rubbing her eyes, the girl suddenly froze when she saw the imposing sight of the gigantic warrior. "W-who are you?"

The Dragonborn furrowed his brow. "You should know, girl, you were the one who summoned me here. I have many names, and more titles, but you may call me Ysmir."

Colbert intervened before the girl realized that her summon had mentioned having titles, feeling it was best to let him break the news later, in a more private location.

"Now Louise, it is time to bind your familiar, is it not?"

The girl stood up, a bit groggily but still, and almost without thinking chanted the necessary words, pulled Ysmir down to her level and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. He remained almost indifferent, but took off his left gauntlet and studied the runes being inscribed there. Colbert noticed the runes looking strange, but chalked it up to them too being affected by this man's strange magic.

However, the girl, too felt a sharp, burning sensation on the back of her left hand. The symbol formed was that of a dragon.

"Ah," Ysmir exclaimed, "It seems I get to mark you too! That there is the imperial seal, long standing symbol of the power of the dragonborn. Also, the banner under which I fight."

Louise responded by promptly passing out, luckily getting caught by Ysmir before she hit the ground. After asking Colbert for directions, he lifted the girl into his arms, as one would a very small child, and went about finding her room.

Once he had entered the academy, he briefly put his summoner down on a bench and retrieved from a small pocket on the outside of his backpack his compass; another object heavily enchanted by the enchanting professor at the college of Winterhold. As long as he had rudimentary directions to a location he wished to go to, the compass would show him the way and, to a lesser extent, the distance. Picking up the girl with one hand and holding his compass in the other, Ysmir followed the tool as it directed him to a room he presumed was the one the good professor had pointed out as the room where his summoner normally resided. Entering, he closed the door behind him and put the girl down on the bed. He caught himself trying to approximate the age of the girl, but even he had to admit that thirteen was much too young to have such great power to summon someone such as himself, from another universe no less!

His own powers hadn't awakened until he, only aged twenty winters, had killed his first dragon, Mirmulnir, and absorbed its soul. Then, and only then, had he been able to use the first Thu'um he had ever learnt, Unrelenting Force. It turned out later that absorbing massive amounts of draconic power had other effects too, such as making him age extremely slowly, lose the need to eat and acquire a lesser resistance to magic, all similar to the traits dragon kind possessed. The reduced aging in particular had been extremely helpful in his adventures, as he would be nearly eighty winters old had he lived as a mortal. As so often happened nowadays, he unknowingly sat down in a chair and drifted off into old memories.

He awoke after nearly an hour of reminiscing over past adventures, particularly the day nearly thirty winters ago when Lydia had resigned as his housecarl, feeling herself too old to be of any use in battle anymore. Instead she united all of his housecarls into an efficient, extremely loyal small army of warriors, rangers and sorcerers, governed by Lydia, the Grandmaster, First of their ranks, who dispatched these warriors all around Tamriel as an extra security measure to protect the innocent and uphold imperial law. Now known as the Knights of the Dov, they were treated with utmost respect by the people and had all the authority of a praefect in the imperial army when it came to calling for Imperial Justice.

Looking out of the window, Ysmir felt he had purpose again, true purpose, for the first time since he defeated the desperate invasion organized by the Thalmor nearly a decade back when they realized the empire was becoming more powerful than it had ever been before. After that he had felt happy, of course, but also bored. Banditry had hit an all-time low, according to the imperial outposts, the Dark Brotherhood had been partly reformed, partly killed off and now worked as a silent taskforce, dealing with corruption and other crimes on the Emperors command, and the Thieves Guild had to inforce a continent-wide set of rules including never killing and, if called for, appearing to help defend the Empire. All in all, the continent was safe.

Even the Psijic monks had reappeared, if only to tell him that they were most impressed with how things had turned out. They still practiced sorcery, mysticism and other kinds of magic on their Isle, and they had promised to warn the Emperor should anything happen in the foreseeable future.

The fact that they hadn't warned old Titus Mede III about the disappearance of the Dragonborn meant that it probably came as a shock for them as well. Still, they would manage. Everything would work, because he had designed it that way. Even if he was ever killed, the Empire would keep on working like a well-oiled dwarven machine.

Rousing himself from his memories once again, Ysmir turned to find a pile of hay on the floor beside the bed. As he had slept on much worse bedding before, the Dragonborn calmly retrieved from his backpack a bear skin and a small bottle of stamina poison, which was the only way he could sleep peacefully. Laying down and drinking the potion, he drifted off to the lands of the sleeping, dreaming of dragons, glowing noisy roots and green explosions.


	3. Chapter 3: Information & Demonstration

**Wow, that went really well! I must admit I didn't really think when I wrote this up; I simply imagined what a bored, nearly immortal dragonborn would accomplish when left alone for several decades and came up with restoring the Empire and destroying the Thalmor.**

 **Everything else just flowed straight out of my mind.**

 **I would like to point out that the dragonborn in this story will be fairly proficient with magic and sneaky skills, however he will be the epitome of a warrior, as you will see soon. Personally, I play my dragonborn as a Nord paladin of Arkay and Stendarr, wearing Dawnguard armour, wielding Dawnbreaker, Auriel's Shield and every restoration spell possible (except wards, no one likes wards) whilst smiting undead all over the place.**

 **We are all different, and so are our Dragonborns.**

 **If anyone has questions or perhaps remarks when it comes to the Dragonborn I will happily answer them if you use the review function. I am also aware I use the comma sign a lot, sometimes too much. Do tell me if it's hard to read.**

 **Favourite and follow if you want, I don't much care.**

 **Now, with that taken care of, let us continue!**

Chapter three: Information and Demonstration

Louise woke up with a start from her dreams of men in black armour marching across battlefield after battlefield and dragon symbols being burned into all her possessions. She recognized her room, and her bed, but why was she wearing her uniform whilst lying in said bed?

She recalled performing the summoning spell and calling forth a huge explosion, then everything had faded to black. Had she failed? Would she be expelled? No, if that was the case her mother would have been informed and already have flown here with her manticore to take her back to the Vallière mansion for extreme punishment, and her mother had a way of knowing things to be true before most would have heard a rumour. Louise held suspicion that her mother had devised some sort of wind magic to relay sounds from all around the kingdom to her ear; that was the only way she could think of as being within her mother's skill range.

She held no doubt that Karin, duchess de la Vallière and known as the Heavy Wind, would do so if she could. Her mother held extreme loyalty to the queen and had done horrific things in the past to protect Tristain as captain of the manticore knights.

So, if she didn't fail and hadn't been expelled, where was her familiar?

She got out of bed and tried to straighten out her wrinkled uniform. As she was about to reach for her spare skirt she noticed a foot clad in a black metal boot peeking forth from behind the bedframe. She remembered ordering a servant to place some hay there as primitive bedding for her familiar, if she actually summoned one that was.

Slowly and very quietly she moved to look at the large man lying there, and as she saw his black armour (Why would he sleep in that?) and the runes on his left hand she remembered.

She summoned a familiar, sure. A human, named Ysmir. She had not heard of any mage summoning a human as a familiar since the founding of the kingdoms by Brimir, who was known to have several human familiars.

She also remembered her hand being inscribed upon as well, and a quick look confirmed her memories: the dragon symbol from her dreams was now burned into her hand in what seemed like dark scar tissue.

Well, at least she had a familiar now. As this was the Day of the Void, a day off for all students so they might get to know their familiars a bit better, she decided to speak to her new familiar about his new position.

Of course, this required waking him up.

Approaching his upper half, Louise took a look at his face. He was certainly an experienced warrior, the scars gave that away, but she could not deny he was… easy on the eyes. However, this was not the time for such thoughts. She grabbed his shoulder, making sure she didn't cut herself on his armour, and shook him. Or rather, tried to shake him. He was just too heavy for the young girl to move, especially when wearing that thick black armour suit. Frustrated, she instead moved her hand to his face and grabbed hold of his right ear, pulling it. "Get up, Familiar. It is morning."

Ysmir felt his ear moving, and heard a voice. This stirred him from his sleep, and he sat up. As he opened his eyes he identified his little summoner standing in front of him, looking a wee bit irritated. He decided to speak before she could get any angrier.

"Morning, Summoner. Have you recovered fully from yesterday?"

The girl who the good professor Colbert had called Louise seemed to recall the great explosion she caused yesterday, but pushed it aside for a later date. Her need to understand the man before her was greater than those memories.

"Yes, I think so. More importantly, I need to ask you a few questions regarding your nationality and history with nobility. If you truly are to be my familiar, I need to know if you have done anything notable in the past so that I may assess your strengths and weaknesses."

Somewhat proud of how she had formulated that sentence, Louise stood back to give the man some room. She expected to hear boasting and tales of combat, perhaps participation in some war or other.

She was not prepared.

Ysmir sensed a large amount of lofty, condescending attitude. That wouldn't do. If they were to work together for a prolonged amount of time they needed mutual respect. He already respected her raw magical power. It was time to make her respect him.

Ysmir stood up, his silver eyes glowing dangerously. She had yet to actually appreciate his size, but he towered over her and seemed to give off an aura of power that filled the entire room. She felt a chill pass down her spine. When he spoke, his voice reverberated until it sounded like several men were standing all around her.

"You ask what I have accomplished? You dare doubt my work? I will tell you some of what I have done, and some of the titles and names I bear, so that you may grasp the concept of the man you have summoned."

Louise nearly stumbled backwards. The man radiated power, captivated her with his words. He could have been a master speaker in the army had he chosen to.

"I am the dragon slayer, the one who absorbs the dragon souls, and for that I was named Dovahkiin, Born Hunter of Dragon kind. I am the one who command the Companions, warriors of valour and might, and for that I was given the title of Harbinger. I am the one to restore the Cyrodiilic Empire, and the one who crushed all its enemies, and for that I was given the title of Eighth Imperial Champion. I have killed vampires, hunted with werewolves, devoured dragons and consorted with deadra, living through it all. For all of this, and more, I was named Ysmir, Dragon of the North, and you, young summoner, have brought me from my world to yours."

Louise trembled. She somehow felt the man wasn't lying. Champion of an unknown empire? She really screwed up this time. He would kill her for binding him, he would take over Tristain, nay, all of Halkeginia! She had doomed them all…

Just as she was having chaotic thoughts about being the one responsible for destroying the world, Ysmir lowered his voice and continued.

"I could take over this world, true, but I won't. You did not know what you were doing, and you seem like an innocent girl. To actually accomplish a feat like this you would need a ridiculous amount of magic power, meaning you show great potential. The professor mentioned you have a record of failure, so we shall strike a deal. I will protect you and teach you how to use magic in other ways than you have tried, and you will teach me about this land and act as my face to the world, at least for a time. Now, what say you?"

Extremely relieved and somewhat shocked that was all he wanted, Louise nodded fiercely.

"Good," Ysmir continued, "Then by the Empire and the Nine it shall be so. Now, what shall we accomplish today?"

His gleeful anticipation slipped into his voice in the last sentence. He had been bored for so long, and now finally he had a new adventure!

Louise looked upon the man standing before her, who was now hopping from one leg to another in anticipation. He almost looked like a big dog, excited to go for a walk in an unknown forest. Her fear and shock dissipated very quickly. She could make this work. She had summoned a familiar, and one of great power at that, from another universe! Though she understood she may need to keep quiet about the last part, she was still rather thrilled. Maybe the energy her familiar radiated was rubbing off on her.

"Today is the Day of the Void, meaning I have no classes. I suggest we begin by eating breakfast, I'm starving."

She walked around the Dragonborn to reach the door, but stopped when she heard him speak.

"It's nearly midday, a bit late for breakfast."

She had overslept? No wonder she was hungry!

"Then we shall have lunch. I'm sure we can send for some food for you too from the kitchen, even though you're not a student." She had to take care of her new familiar after all, and it wouldn't do to keep him famished.

"Thank you, summoner, but I can go without food if need be. I will explore the school whilst you eat; I need to memorize the layout of this place if we are to reside here for an extended period of time." This was really just a reason for him to go around sightseeing and having fun. "I will meet you where you first summoned me in one hour."

Louise had no problem with her strange familiar wanting to explore, in fact it was impressive that he would forsake food in order to gain intelligence that would help him in protecting her. Whilst somewhat unnecessary here, that kind of paranoia mixed with devotion could keep her alive through dire situations. Her mother always said that good intelligence was worth more than a legion of soldiers when defending a target, and she was a strategical genius in her own right.

"Sure, if you want to memorize the structure then go right ahead. I'm impressed with your devotion. As you said, we will meet in the summoning court in an hour. Until then, feel free to explore."

The two new partners went their separate ways, with Louise finding she was just in time for lunch and Ysmir finding the school was harder to navigate than Shalidor's maze. He retrieved a quill, some ink and a big sheet of parchment from his backpack and used most of the hour to wander the school and add to his extensive collection of maps; somewhat of a hobby. It had proved useful several times before when he had been asked about directions and it would surely prove useful again.

After one hour and fifty-two seconds Ysmir joined his Summoner in the courtyard. The sun was shining even brighter than yesterday and a light breeze blew the grass about and brought with it the smell of tulips. It was late spring in Tristain and the flowers, a favourite of the princess, dotted the landscape.

Louise spoke first.

"So, have you explored the grounds sufficiently? Have you found any immediate threats?" The last question was meant to be sarcastic, but it seemed that nuance was lost on the Dragonborn.

"I have indeed explored, but not the whole academy. Seeing as I made several maps as I walked the trip went very slowly. I have however discovered an old disused garden full of alchemical ingredients, and I accepted several miscellaneous quests from the servants, including wood chopping, retrieval of goods and a particular task from the good professor Colbert which included hunting down a deer from the forest, as he needs the antlers in his new project. I could perceive no threats, except from a fiery lizard I didn't dare attack since it was with a student."

Louise was struck back slightly as a wall of information approached her ears at dangerous speed. "Wood chopping? You are the familiar of a noble, so you need not do such tasks. Also, what do you mean by retrieval of goods?"

"One of the maids, whose name I believe to be Siesta, asked me to gather up discarded clothes on the third floor of the northern tower, where the third year students reside. As a reward I was offered a small copper ring she had found on the academy grounds."

"It seems to me that your ´quests´ are nothing more than servants asking for help with chores, but if it makes you happy to perform them I shall allow you to continue in the future. Now, do you have any plans for today?"

Ysmir smiled a wolf-like grin and his eyes gleamed when he looked up. This was the time, he was actually going to get to explore! He might as well bring her with him, as some sort of bonding activity.

"I do have something in mind. Tell me, have you ever participated in a real hunt?"

Louise shook her head. Her sister loved animals far too much to let their father go on hunting trips. Just as well, for the Duke de la Vallière was a peaceful and calm man to balance out his wife's cunning, manipulating ferocity.

"Well then, remember the task I got from Professor Colbert? We will stalk the wilderness until we find some deer, and then we shall hunt one of them, preferably a stag, until it dies."


	4. Chapter 4: Archery & Aerial Surveillance

**Ok, I will start this chapter by telling you how FREAKING SURPRISED I am right now. Apparently nearly ten people have visited my tiny little corner of this site, just to read my story.**

 **This being within the first thirty minutes of it being available for reading.**

 **Oooh boy, am I happy! So happy, in fact, that I started writing the next chapter immediately!**

 **I made a few corrections to the first chapter, it seems I had written the sequence where Ysmir puts the crossbow within the backpack twice, but I am still very delighted with how this story is turning out!**

 **No real honorary mentions yet, as no one seems to have found my little Easter eggs in chapter one. This will likely change soon.**

 **Ah well, I shan't keep you from reading anymore. Dig in, folks!**

Chapter four: Archery and Aerial Surveillance

Louise very nearly choked on what was left of her lunch.

"Hunting?! Me?! Now?!"

"Yes, that is what I said. We shall make use of this quest as a way to further tie the bond between us. Trust me, you will learn from it."

Louise was split between two choices. On one hand, she could simply refuse. There was no way Ysmir would actually force her into the woods, right? However, a quick glance towards his eyes answered that. Yes, yes he could, yes he would and he would laugh whilst he did it. That left the other choice, which was more of a statement now. She could follow him, see if some of his boasts were actually based on real abilities and perhaps learn a thing or two. Her father and mother rarely agreed on anything, but there was one opinion both of them had spread to Louise and her sisters.

"New skills are never useless, and knowledge always holds power."

Ysmir heard what the girl mumbled to herself and nodded silently in approval. Skills and knowledge should never be underestimated. He had started out as a simple lumberjack who only knew how to swing an axe and kill the occasional wolf, and those skills had been invaluable to him in his early career.

Louise raised her head and looked Ysmir straight in his eyes, any hints of fear or surprise gone from her expression.

"Well then, lead the way. I will follow you closely behind and try not to make any noise. Shall we head for the forests in the west, east, or north?"

Ysmir was a wee bit impressed that a pampered girl like his summoner would actually agree to this, and so he decided to present a gift to her once this quest was over. Quest rewards were always something special, after all, and thus Louise would receive a big one for her very first quest.

"Well, as it turns out, Professor Colbert is quite the nature lover. He often wanders around in the forests surrounding the academy, when he is not busy with an invention that is. He mentioned seeing a large group of deer to the west of the academy a few days ago. He remembered it well, because he stopped and drew some sketches of them which caused him to be late to his next class."

Louise was surprised. She never knew that, and she had studied under the man for two years! She always just thought of him as a strange, but kind man who could have been a brilliant mage had he simply been slightly more focused on his work. Maybe that was the first lesson for today then, you should not judge someone before you get to know them.

"So, we head to the west. Anything else?"

Ysmir looked the girl up and down, and then suddenly realized something.

"It might be a good idea to switch clothes. You are going to dirty your uniform if you hunt in that, and I need to don something that does not clank when I move. Do you have anything suitable?"

Louise shook her head. "The only other clothes I have, save for spare uniforms, are a travelling cloak and a pair of high boots."

Ysmir shrugged, with a somewhat sorry face suddenly taking the place of his normal grin.

"Then I am afraid I shall have to break one of the holy rules of questing. Tell no one, or my reputation will be sullied greatly." He said all this with a stern tone, as if threatening a sibling not to tell the parents that you broke the window.

"What is that rule?" Louise asked somewhat suspiciously. It seemed like her familiar might do something bad, and she did not want their first real activity together to be one breaking laws.

Ysmir spoke, with a grave tone to his voice. "I will have to give you your reward before the quest is complete. Now, take this."

As Louise was taken aback about how much consideration he put into his "Questing rules", Ysmir knelt and opened his backpack. He then retrieved, piece after piece, a set of hooded leather armour with many pockets. Strangely, it seemed to be about her size.

"Why would you carry around a set of armour too small for you to use?"

Ysmir closed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder and stood up.

"I was currently delivering this set of guild armour to a girl I know called Babette. She said she wanted something to wear whilst hunting so she didn't have to sully her dress, and so it got it for her birthday. Seeing as I will be stuck here for a while, I suppose you have greater need of it."

After thanking him profusely, Louise searched for, and found, a closet where she could change. Ysmir simply walked behind a fountain of sorts, crouched and donned the armour set he had been given when he reached the rank of Guild master of the Thieves Guild. Though it was technically still Brynjolf who gave the orders, the armour was definitely a worthy reward for that long questline.

It had been a while since he wore it, and as he revelled in the feeling of the enchanted armour bestowing new abilities upon him he simultaneously placed his Daedric armour set in his backpack, together with his mace and shield, and removed two bows and two quivers;

One bow as black as night, seeming to radiate shadows and stealth. Even the most untrained smith could see that this was a masterpiece, its smooth shapes and silver decorations being a treat for the eyes and hands, and the quiver he lay down beside it contained ebony arrows.

The other bow was wooden, with metal pieces strengthening the shape. Though it was in the shape of a normal hunting bow, the craftsmanship was exquisite and it gleamed with health. He had carved it many years ago when he realised that bringing all of his weapons and armour on every hunting trip greatly slowed him down, not to mention that it gave him a ginormous edge over the wildlife he was hunting. Beside it he lay down a quiver of good quality steel arrows.

He then sat down beside the weapons and prayed to Hircine, Lord of the Hunt.

When Louise returned to where she had left him she could not find him at first. He called out, startling her, and rose from his hiding spot.

"Well then, are you ready? Does your armour fit?"

On one hand, Louise desperately wanted to deny that, seeing as armour made to fit a young girl shouldn't fit her, a grown woman, (In her eyes that was), but she couldn't deny that it fit like a second skin and left her plenty of movement room.

"Yes, actually, it does. I have never met the Babette you talked about, but you must have plans for her if you would give a little girl armour like this. Is she a pupil of yours?"

Ysmir conjured up an image of Babette in his head, and burst out in laughter when he imagined her taking orders from him.

"Hahahahahah! No, no, she is not my pupil, in fact she would likely kill me before taking classes from me. She is the current Listener, leader of the Dark brotherhood, a guild of assassins now a part of the imperial army."

Louise was slightly scared learning that the Empire her familiar came from employed assassins in their army, but when she realised how much of a tactical benefit having highly trained killers on a leash must amount to she came to the conclusion that her mother had probably done it at least one time. She settled for the second question as they began walking west towards the edge of the forest.

"I thought she was very young? You describe her as a little girl, and yet as a master assassin?"

As they reached the forest Ysmir contemplated whether he should tell her about Babette's nature. Well, if they were to team up for a long period of time she might as well know. He answered quietly.

"Well, she is actually neither child nor adult… or perhaps she is both. She is a vampire, and an old one at that seeing as she was infected nearly three hundred and eighty winters ago. She has been stuck in the body and, to some extent, mind of a ten-year-old, for longer than most others could imagine living."

"A Vampire?!" Louise exclaimed, "A creature of the night?! A bloodsucking demon?! An undead abomination who feeds on innocents?! THEY'RE REAL?!"

"Quiet, summoner, lest you scare away the deer. Yes, they are real, but I wouldn't worry. I have yet to see any signs of them existing in this world. Now, stay quiet and follow me."

Louise supressed her fear and surprise, and follower Ysmir as he crouched and made his way through the underbrush. He stopped periodically to study some tracks, and at least one time she saw him sniffing into the air. Preposterous, surely he couldn't smell the deer on the wind…

She nearly bumped into him as he stopped and pointed forwards into a clearing. Several deer stood there, grazing and watching a spectacle: two of the biggest stags were fighting.

Louise forgot all about the time it had taken them to get to this place, for the sight was truly magnificent.

Ysmir stirred her from her trance and pointed to the bigger stag.

"He will lose to the younger one, and when he does we will kill him."

She had almost forgotten about the reason they were out here, but nodded. They would give the stag an honourable death, and his body would be used. If nothing else the kitchen staff would not say no to a free deer, albeit without any horns.

The fight between the stags was almost over; the bigger one was panting and snorting, whilst the smaller one was still quick on its cloven hooves. With one last charge, the young stag knocked the older one onto the ground. As he had won, he sauntered over to the females who formed a ring around him. The older stag stood up, and began walking away.

Ysmir spoke, very silently.

"Now, raise your bow and nock an arrow. Draw the string back and breathe in. Do not let go of the string until you can hold the bow steadily."

Almost as bound by sorcery, Louise did what she was told without even really thinking. She straightened the bow, aimed and let loose an arrow. Time seemed to slow down as the arrow flew. It hit the old stag in the throat. Bad place, she knew that much about anatomy. It would suffer for a long time before dying of suffocation or blood loss. She felt sorry, very sorry, and it struck her that she had just doomed an animal to a slow, painful death.

Just then another arrow, a streak of shadow given form, flew towards the stag. It had yet to move, perhaps not realizing it had been shot. The second arrow pierced the chest area and moved out the other side and hitting a big tree with a thud. The stag looked toward the sound before slumping to the ground, its heart pierced.

The rest of the deer ran from the dead form that used to be their strongest stag. Ysmir entered the clearing, dragging her with him.

As they reached the stag, it was quite clear that while her shot would have killed it his was the one that ended it right there. Ysmir removed a knife from his belt and started skinning the animal. When he was done, he removed his backpack and retrieved from it a small axe, the head only about eight centimetres long. He had made this miniature axe as a tool to split wood when making arrows, but it worked just as fine to chop of bone or horn. Using the axe, he removed the horns and placed them in his backpack together with the untreated deer hide. He took from inside it a large piece of coarse fabric, and wrapped the body in it.

Only when he was done with this routine did he look behind him.

His summoner was standing behind him, eyes empty and arms hanging down. She whispered a phrase over and over, like a religious mantra.

"I killed an animal. I killed an animal. I killed an animal…."

Ysmir realised that he might have overdone it, and picked up Louise by her arms and held her at arm's length so that he could look into her eyes without having to bend his neck.

"Yes, you did. And that is nothing to be afraid of, but a pride. You have something none of your pampered little classmates have, and if you ever need to use it again it will be right there at your service. Don't be scared, be proud, for you have done something that takes guts. Your first time hunting a beast, with only a bow and some skinning tools, is a tale to be told to your grandchildren."

Louise heard his voice and recognized the message behind it as logical. She looked back up, feeling very tired all of a sudden.

"I… I think I may retire for the night. I need to process this. Could you please turn the horns in to Professor Colbert, and deliver the deer to the kitchens?"

As he remembered his reaction when he had killed his first bandit, which had been far worse, the dragonborn simply nodded and lifted the girl unto his left shoulder, where he held her with his spare hand as he dragged the carcass with his other hand and headed towards the academy.

Far, far above him a blue dragon circled.


	5. Chapter 5: Air and Ground Perspective

**Now you've gone and done something very stupid. Something most people only ever do once, and then spend the rest of their petty existence avoiding.**

 **You guys have made me happy and excited.**

 **I thought the first chapter was decent, but this I never imagined. As I am beginning to write this, in the middle of the night between twelfth and thirteenth of December, my story has been visited by more than three hundred people. That is a number I had hoped to reach within a year.**

 **I reached it within three days.**

 **I am currently hyperventilating, and realising that people seemed to enjoy my spawned mix of letters made me reach for my laptop so as not to disappoint my readers, even if I am only starting up chapter five. If this chapter is delayed more than usual, it is probably because I'm having troubles writing in Sylphid-form. She is supposed to be somewhat logical, yet childish? I also want to keep some of the Dragon Awesomeness I first felt when I was introduced to Paarthurnax.**

 **I might just write her as a juvenile dragon, meaning she won't possess the wisdom and intelligence Paarthurnax and Odahviing shows.**

 **Also, no shout outs yet! Come on guys, those weren't THAT obscure of references, were they?**

 **With that out of the way, let's get cooking!**

Chapter five:Air and Ground Perspective

Sylphid had been out hunting for food when she discovered the humans. She did not _see_ them, but rather she felt the presence of the large male. He felt just like a dragon, but there was something strange about it that she could not quite place her claw on; it almost seemed as if his aura was that of several dragons, all contained within a human with a splash of those furry things that had tails, sharp teeth and sometimes howled.

Wolves. Her summoner had called them wolves.

As she did not want to ruin their hunt, especially since she had not yet officially laid claim to these hunting grounds, she rose higher and circled, confident that her white underside would let her blend in with the clouds.

When the human-wolf-dragon and the little human made their way back to the academy after the successful hunt, she focused her attention on the man. As he felt like a dragon within a human, perhaps he was another rhyme dragon? It had been a long time since she played with a fellow dragon, and thus she decided to monitor the possible playmate.

Tabitha had stressed the need to stay quiet about her rhyme dragon nature, and since she couldn't really swoop down and lift the man up for a private talk, she decided to approach him later with Tabitha as backup if necessary. Until then, she decided on observing his actions and behaviour, so that she could convince her slightly paranoid summoner that he was indeed worthy of attention.

As the man-dragon and the little girl returned to the academy, Sylphid landed in another of the five courts and mentally called out to her summoner, asking her for some free time. She was still getting used to the whole mental link thing that big sis had set up, but she could not deny it was useful.

After receiving a vague feeling of approval, meaning her mistress was probably reading, she flew back to the forest. Landing in a small clearing among high trees, she made sure there were no humans or familiars about (they had a distinct smell, like normal prey but with a slight odour of magic) she used her Nature magic to shape change into her human form.

In this form, she wandered back to the academy and looked for the dragon-man. She could just about detect his presence, and she followed it to a big door, smelling of smoke, iron and the fresh smell of sap, indicating it had recently been replaced. The door had a name plate next to it.

Prof. Jean Colbert, Fire mage, it read.

She heard footsteps behind the door and swiftly hid behind it.

The dragon-man walked out, dressed in different armour than he had been wearing during the hunt. This set was black and red, with spikes.

"Thank you once again, professor! I shall be sure to check in on you when your contraption is done. It seems very interesting, as well as useful."

His voice reverberated of the walls, more than it should. Sylphid remembered hearing her grandfather speak human once, and he sounded something like that. Of course, her grandfather was nearly five hundred years old and very large even by dragon standards, so perhaps this meant nothing.

Another voice answered him, and this one sounded more human. Male, somewhat aged, but still strong.

"Oh, please do! I might even have some more… what did you call them, quests? I have been working far too much today, so I'm off to bed. Good day, Ysmir, and keep on with the good work."

As the dragon-man, now known to her as Ysmir, left the door closed behind him. Sylphid followed close behind him, making sure to hide whenever she believed he might stop or turn around.

As he continued walking, she realized he was heading for the smithy. The headmaster had outfitted the Academy with one, located outside the Tower of Fire, where the groundskeeper made horseshoes, nails and tools for the servants employed by the Academy as well as breastplates and spears for the small guard force that patrolled the grounds by night. She had discovered the place whilst flying around the academy this morning, waiting for her summoner to wake up. Once Tabitha did wake up she had provided some additional information about the forge, as Sylphid had been interested in the process of smelting and smithing.

The man-dragon Ysmir strolled over to the groundskeeper, who was currently heating up the forge. He spoke a few sentences to the man, and then took over the bellows. He pumped them with extreme strength, another sign he might have been a dragon, and the forge heated up quickly. The groundskeeper placed a few ingots of steel into the forge, and they soon turned orange like the coals they were laying upon.

The two men switched, and Ysmir grabbed one of the ingots with the help of a pair of tongs, and swiftly hammered it out to a small, but roughly sword shaped form. Placing it in the forge again for heating, he retrieved one of the other two ingots and placed it upon the anvil. With hammer strikes so quick she nearly didn't see them he split the ingot into some twenty pieces and hammered each of those into an arrowhead.

Seemingly satisfied, he placed these into a small barrel of water and retrieved the rough blade from the embers within the forge. He kept on hammering, occasionally walking over to the grindstone to sharpen the result, until the sword was complete. He then, finally, took the last ingot from the forge. This one he thought about for a second or two, and then a wry smile overtook his previously concentrated facial expression.

He gave this last ingot more attention than the other two. He split it in two equal parts and proceeded to shape each of them into what looked like daggers, but the cross guard extended into a net of sorts that covered the hand. The blades were long and curved, giving the blades the look of a scimitar or sabre but much smaller. Satisfied, he gave a nod to the groundskeeper to stop manning the bellows, and proceeded to give the man the sword, the arrowheads and a friendly pat on the back, the last of which caused the man to stagger a little.

Ysmir then turned around, walked into the corridor and proceeded to catch Sylphid hiding in a doorway.

She very nearly panicked, but realised that she was in her human form and he had not seen her transform. He could not know that she was a dragon, right?

It seemed he didn't, or maybe he did. He did not show anything, but simply gave a curt nod and proceeded through the doorway, likely headed to the girl he had been with earlier. Sylphid decided she had seen enough, however and made way for Tabitha's room.

 _Heads up, viewpoint change_

After Sylphid had spoken to her (And eaten some of her leftovers from lunch) Tabitha felt that her familiar could be on to something here. If nothing else, anyone who could summon a dragon, or keep one here, was a mage on par with her. Thus, information was key to assessing this potential threat. She decided on doing some spying on her own. After asking the dragon currently stuffing her face with most of her lunch (Tabitha was a very light eater) about the looks of the man-dragon and the girl, she came to a conclusion.

It was not a good conclusion.

There were not that many pink haired girls studying in the academy, and only one had summoned a human. Or so everyone had thought. Louise could well be a spy, sent here by her uncle, who had been deliberately failing her every magic action just to throw off suspicion until she could use her hidden, massive powers to summon a powerful familiar, like, say, a FREAKING DRAGON, and then destroy Tabitha.

When she realized what she had just thought about one of her few nearly-acquaintances, Tabitha pulled her paranoia back a few miles. Perhaps Louise merely possessed a great reserve of magical power, without the refined skill to finely work it. That theory seemed equally as unbelievable as the first one, but it painted Louise as an innocent and that made Tabitha feel slightly more at ease. Perhaps she could gain a powerful ally by simply socializing more with one of her sort-of-friends.

Oooh, socializing. She had always dreaded it, but it was necessary now.

First, however, she needed an outside viewpoint. Someone who did not know anything about her being a banished princess and having summoned a supposedly extinct breed of dragon for a familiar, but was still knowledgeable enough to give some comprehensive advice without asking too many questions. Someone more down to earth, who still knew every piece of gossip and rumour about everyone.

Kirche would be thrilled.


	6. Chapter 6: Theories and Advice

**Ok, Ok, I admit I had some serious problems with last chapter. Sylphid's thoughts were hard to formulate and I had very little to go on for her personality. The same goes for Tabitha, so I just overplayed the paranoid part of her until it was her major attribute.**

 **I will also not deny that I absolutely dread writing Kirche. I want to give her more depth than simply "I have sex with nearly everyone and fall in love with the rest" and at the same time I don't want to change her too much. I think I'll borrow some of her personality from some other Zero fanfics I read a while back. They succeeded, so why shouldn't I?**

 **Other than that, I apologise profusely that the last chapter didn't hit the 2000 word count. I simply couldn't bring myself to start off Kirche and then ending it in the middle of her introduction. It is strange, I feel obligated to apologise even though I've never set up any rules regarding chapter length. I also apologise that this chapter will likely take longer to write than the others; Christmas and all that, you know.**

 **Speaking of strange and unacceptable things, not a single one of you guys have figured out my Easter eggs! Shape up, guys, otherwise I might have Louise lose a hand or something. I can picture it in my head already…**

 **With the threats and apologies taken care of, I am reluctantly starting off this chapter.**

Chapter six: Theories and Advice

Kirche was just about to send Flame on a short mission to the kitchen (she had skipped the dinner in favour of a short little escapade with some guy she picked up a few hours before, and since she had at least three of the male servers under her manicured thumb it didn't really matter if she had to skip a meal) when a very quiet Tabitha knocked on her door in search of confirmation and, in at least some measure, company capable of intelligent conversation.

It was very unusual for Tabitha to seek out Kirche. Usually it was the other way around. Kirche was the one with the greater need of social interaction and since most of the other girls shunned her for charming all of the boys and the boys mainly just stared at her cleavage, Tabitha was her only real friend. That meant that Kirche opened the door, locked it behind her friend and pulled up two chairs. Sitting down on one of them and crossing her legs, she motioned for Tabitha to sit and then asked her friend a question.

"So, why do you come see me? Don't misunderstand, I'm happy to have you here, but you never interact with anyone unless necessary and I happen to know you borrowed a new book yesterday from the library. So, what's the occasion? You finally caught a boy?"

Kirche might be judged only by her looks, but she was far from stupid. She was one of very few people who could read Tabitha's nearly emotionless face, and she excelled at prediction of actions. She saw uncertainty, worry, and a slight tinge of fear. That wasn't good. Tabitha rarely showed fear, even to her friend.

"Louise's familiar. What do you know?"

That was a long sentence by Tabitha's standards. Kirche hadn't really thought much about the man, as she fully thought it a farce. There was no way Louise the Zero could ever summon a human as a familiar.

"Not much. I know he wears black, heavy armour, and the way he moved when he was summoned suggests he knows how to use both it and the mace that hung by his belt. He had several scars, so he's likely a skilled warrior and not just a talent. Since he didn't look very old, he likely started training when he was very young. His voice sounded weirdly authorative, so I think he has had lots of practice addressing people before. Even so he didn't introduce himself, and he had no wand, or sword wand for that matter. That means he is a commoner. I'd say bandit leader, low ranking officer in some army or perhaps mercenary."

Tabitha raised an eyebrow. Kirche realised what she had just said.

"I'm from a military family, Tabitha. Analysing body language comes with the package of being a woman."

Tabitha shifted in her chair, and spoke again.

"Louise. Power level?"

Kirche tried to find some joke to divert that question, but she thought about this every so often herself. Explosions could possibly be generated as a spell on its own, like the ones Louise kept casting, but it would take large amounts of Willpower to do so. Seeing as the Vallière girl could pull off several of these in the space of a few hours and never passed out as a result of it, Kirche had come to the conclusion that either Louise's spells were some sort of different explosion, or she possessed a very large pool of Willpower. Perhaps both.

"I do not know, but if those explosions are the same or alike the other explosion spells I've seen she seems to have a large amount of Willpower, but nearly no control. Why do you wonder?"

Tabitha got up from her chair and walked to the door. She lifted her staff and tapped the door with it lightly, mumbling whilst she did it. A light blue bubble seemed to expand from her staff until it fit into every crack in the walls and the door. Kirche recognized the spell, her mother had often used if for girl talk. It was a potent Silence spell, protecting from anyone trying to listen in on a conversation. Tabitha must think her information very important.

Noticeably calmer, the tiny blue haired girl sat back down in her chair.

"Familiar. Sylphid thinks he's a dragon."

"A dragon?! That's madness! How could he be a dragon and look like a man?"

Tabitha really didn't want to endanger Sylphid by revealing her true nature, so she told a small lie Kirche would have little or no trouble accepting.

"Shapeshifting. Rare ability, but exists in some older dragons."

Kirche felt her friend halt slightly before speaking. That meant it was likely a lie or a modified truth. Sometimes she wished the people reading hadn't been such a big part of her home schooling. She decided to ignore the possible lie, and continued the conversation instead of questioning Tabitha.

"That would explain some things, like how he could walk so unhindered by such heavy armour and why he sounds so… strange. But why wouldn't Louise tell everyone about this? She boasted about summoning a ´divine´ familiar before, so why not bask in the glory?"

Tabitha came to a halt. Perhaps she truly needed Kirche to be all in on this plan. She decided against telling her about Sylphid being a Rhyme dragon and her mother being held hostage, but told Kirche of her uncle and his suicide missions. She also told of his other attempts at killing her, and relayed her fear that Louise might be a spy sent to kill her by her uncle.

This took nearly half an hour, and it was dusk outside when she finished her story. Kirche reacted strongly, as she did with everything. Tabitha did not, however expect to receive a surprisingly powerful hug.

"Oh Tabitha, that's horrible! I see why you haven't told me before. If there is anything I can do to help you, just say the word. I'd marry the germanian prince if it meant raising an army to kill that founder-damned son of a pig."

After releasing the smaller girl, who proceeded to gasp for air, Kirche got around to dealing with the Louise theory. She admitted to herself that Tabitha had all right to be cautious, what with her being a princess with a maniac king for an uncle, but she knew Louise better than most at the academy, if only because she enjoyed teasing her. In fact, she had contemplated seducing that familiar of hers but her schedule had been full.

"While you are right that it is suspicious, Louise is no spy. She is a genuine Vallière, and she is the mirror image of her mother according to some of the portraits in the royal palace in Germania. Don't ask me why I have been there. Also, she possesses more honour than you would think. She would never sell out a fellow student, I am absolutely certain of that."

Tabitha was relieved. She would not have to kill a fellow student. However, the possibility of a dragon familiar not her own was still highly concerning, partly because it would be hard for Louise to control him and partly because he might be another rhyme dragon. According to Sylphid it was not at all uncommon that two dragons in the same area would fight to the death for control of it.

That was bad. In summoning Sylphid she had gained a substantial advantage over her enemies; Aerial superiority in battle, a shapeshifting scout, a way of quick transport and most importantly a loyal friend. Tabitha could not imagine losing her familiar, and would not take the chance. She decided to approach Louise with her worries and questions at a later date, and have Sylphid stay out of the way of the possible enemy.

After thanking Kirche for the info and leaving, she returned to her room to find Sylphid asleep on her bed. She realised how tired she was, and after quickly setting up several trap spells and an alarm spell to wake her, she made her familiar shuffle over in her sleep and lay down next to her, falling asleep almost instantly.

Kirche however was not done yet. She had never seen a dragon up close, except for Sylphid, and she was very curious about this new potential player. Would he break the rules? Would he play by them? How would he look in his dragon form? If he could take the form of a human, could he be seduced like a human?

The last question was the most important one. Seduction was one of her most powerful tools, and she saw the possibility of having a dragon on her side as a bonus to an already exciting plan. She would try, but not today. Tomorrow might mean classes, but it also meant that Louise would be separated from her familiar for a few hours. Perhaps she could skip class and catch him then?

With these interesting new plans building up in her mind, Kirche went to bed with a smile on her face.

Flame coiled up by her feet, and spread a warmth through her legs, making her drowsy.

She would deal with that familiar tomorrow.

 **Author's Comments:**

 **Oh, for crying out loud, this came out short too!**

 **Ah well, at least it's over. I hate writing conversation, and Kirche was both interesting and difficult to write. I ended up revealing some of Tabitha's past a bit earlier than in the canon, but hey, I thought it fit.**

 _ **I am serious about what I said before though. Louise might very well be hurt in the next chapter if you don't find at least one Easter egg!**_

 **In chapter one, there are two:**

 **One about the opening, where I want the title of the fanfic I borrowed it from.**

 **The other one is about a certain scene that is very similar to a beloved piece of Warhammer Fanfiction. I'll give you a hint, it involves an Assassin specializing in sniping. I want the title of the fanfiction and the name of the Sniper.**

 **Thirdly, I have one last option if you fail the other two. I may be persuaded to not hurt Louise if you tell me the full, real name of Professor Colbert. That includes runic name.**


	7. Chapter 7: Questions and Answers, or Q&A

**Ok guys, I am taking a very short break from writing, meaning I will begin writing the real chapter seven immediately after I'm done with this.**

 **I just wanted to answer some comments and questions I've received so far, and give you all a sense where I stand.**

 **Let's begin with the reviews:**

 **Most of you seem to be positive to my writing, which is nice, but there are some people, mainly anonymous Guests, why have expressed dislike or negativity. I accept them, but would like to address them one at a time.**

 **Celticbrony said, after reading chapter two:**

"Stopped reading here. Canon re-hash, dragon born edition, simply isn't anything new or interesting. **"**

 **Ok, man, I get where you are going, but you do realize that the story does not really take off until chapter three, right? Up until now I have basically been doing the introductions. Still, I admit the story is kind of cliché.**

 **One Guest said, after reading chapter six:**

":still slow on updating and with not much content

if you can only update every once in a while take a notepad to write your thoughts and ideas, brainstorm and create a direction you want to work toward"

 **Ok, whilst I appreciate the tips about the notepad, the comments about slow updates and little content are not very nice. I will not stress this story, it will emerge in its own pace. I will say, though, that 13000 words in eighteen days is a very acceptable pace, at least in my book.**

 **Another Guest said, after reading chapter two:**

"Hey Dragonborn be this girls slave... durr OK!"

… **Ok, I think I understand your crude language. You feel that the dragonborn should not have accepted the familiar status so easily. I will have to disagree here.**

 **We are talking about a man who is nearly immortal, likely the most powerful non-daedra being on his planet, and who has been bored for nearly a decade. I explained it all in the middle of chapter two, which I presume you skimmed, Doctor Livingstone.**

 **Now, unto the Easter eggs:**

 **I received several answers for the easy question about Professor Colbert. The correct answer was Jean Colbert, with the runic name Enjya the Flame Serpent. I admit to not knowing why the "Enjya" is there, but whatever.**

 **The first one to answer is our HONORARY MENTION!**

 **Ronnie R15 answered just barely an hour after I posted the chapter. Good job, man!**

 **No one could answer the other Easter eggs. Shape up, guys. Next time I might not have an easy answer. I expect you to have at least one answer by the time I upload the next chapter.**

 **PM me or send a Review if you have any questions.**


	8. Chapter 8: Theory and Opposition

**First of all, I wish you a happy new year! I am actually beginning to write this around one in the morning, the first day of 2015, laying in my bed. I am terribly sorry for not starting it earlier. In my defence, I was invited to a party and had writer's block.**

 **This chapter is the one where I go off road. I had somewhat planned the events up until now, but now I am outpacing my planning. Luckily for you this does not mean filler episodes or anything of the like, but it will result in me spending more time rewriting and changing the coming chapters. Things might slow down a bit once I start school again too, but hopefully it won't be that noticeable.**

 **I think I'll start writing in an Easter egg every chapter, to give you guys some incentive to actually get off your asses and do some research.**

 **Won't that be fun?**

 **That's a rhetorical question by the way, so you don't get a say in this matter.**

 **With that out of the way, I will direct my tired mind to writing.**

Chapter eight: Theory and Opposition

Louise was sitting on her bed, eyes directed towards a very plain part of the stone wall. She was coming to terms with having killed an innocent creature, and Ysmirs words on the matter had actually helped. It might be a strange and unlikable skill, but knowing how to kill could help her in the future. Best to come to terms with it here and now, to avoid any further freak-outs.

Just as she finally accepted that, and was about to go find Ysmir to apologise for her strange behaviour, the door to her room opened to reveal her familiar, demonic armour and all. He walked in, closed the door and put a small package consisting of something wrapped in cloth on her bed, before greeting her, all with a wide grin.

"Hello again summoner, do you perchance feel better now?"

Louise noticed that his normal, happy voice was almost gleeful. That was good in a way, but also deeply troubling.

"I feel better, yes. I think I have accepted what I have done, and that is good, but why are you so happy?"

Her familiar widened his grin, now which now reached almost from ear to ear and motioned to the package laying on the bed beside her. Louise tentatively unwrapped it, only to stop for a short second.

"This won't explode, will it?"

After seeing him shake his head profusely, she continued unwrapping the package. When all of the cloth wraps were gone she found herself staring at two magnificent daggers, curved and shining with beauty. Ysmir interrupted her admiration with a comment.

"Turned out rather fine, I must say. I based the design on a ritualistic dagger I found in an old tomb, but extended the cross guard to cover the entire hand. In my hands, they would probably be like daggers, but for you they should function more like short swords. Perfect for duels, as spare weapons or simply to dual wield."

Louise picked one of them up. The craftsmanship was exquisite, and she wondered how her familiar had managed to make them in the short time she had left him alone. In any case, the daggers fit into her hands like boots fit onto feet, and she found herself picking up them both and flourishing them around for a bit, simply to enjoy the feeling. After a pause, she put them on her nightstand and faced Ysmir.

"Familiar, thank you. They are… perfect."

She recalled some of the books she used to read when she was younger, the kind which featured princesses, knights, and adventure. Whilst the princesses were not nearly as fun as her friend and actual princess Henrietta, she remembered a small detail that featured through most of the books; all of the legendary swords the main characters wielded had names, or at least titles. A few stood out, like the Heron swords, for being named after beasts or their natural weapons.

"I think I shall name them. The right one will be Claw, and the left one shall be Fang."

Ysmir nodded his head in approval.

"Most blades receive a name only after they are used to do something great, but I think we can make an exception this time."

Louise suddenly remembered something Ysmir had said just this morning after they had come to an agreement, and modified the oath slightly.

"Then… by Fang and Claw it shall be so."

Ysmir chuckled, pulled up a chair and sat down. He donned a more serious expression, and spoke.

"Now, to something more important. Daggers are all well and good, but if you can't reach your foes they quickly become useless. Therefore, and since you seem ready to learn, we shall focus on magic during the last few hours of daylight. Do you feel rested enough to practise casting, or should we go over theory first?"

After subduing her chock and glee (she was finally going to learn new magic!), as well as thinking for a moment, Louise answered with certainty.

"Whilst I think I could manage to cast magic, theory is more important than just trying something and hoping it works. We'll go over theory today, and practical casting tomorrow afternoon once I've finished my classes."

Ysmir nodded.

"Perhaps that is wise. Now, I want you to listen very carefully. I am not primarily a mage, but I could be considered adept in most schools of magic and master of a few. Let us start with the schools, which are how you divide magic spells into categories. Before I do that, however, I need to know your understanding of magic. It might very well be different from my own."

Louise understood, and explained to her familiar, in broad terms, how magic was discovered, or perhaps organized, by the great founder Brimir and how all spells belonged to a certain element. When she was done with that Ysmir let out a sigh.

"This might be more complicated than I thought. It might well be that this Founder character organized magic, but he did so in a very strange way. As far as I can tell, he focused on blood when it came to spreading the power, which is completely different from my type of magic."

Louise came to a conclusion after hearing her familiar babble on about the founder, and it was a strange one.

"Wait, you mean to tell me that magic power is not hereditary in your land? How do you then define nobility? How do they keep their power?"

"That is exactly what I am saying. Magicka is a force everyone is susceptible to, even if some have more talent than other. Everyone has the potential for magic inside them, they just have to awaken it by learning a spell and the theory behind it. Your force of Willpower seems to be the hereditary ability to force your will upon the world, making it bend to accommodate your request. That is a strange way of going about it."

The dragonborn paused, slightly winded, but kept going.

"Nobility is often defined by blood, true, but anyone could technically become a noble if they take control over a portion of land and if the emperor supports their claim. Seeing as it is generally quite simple to dethrone nobles, only the smartest, strongest and most resourceful ones stick around for a prolonged amount of time."

Ysmir was now sporting a red face and had stood up during his lecture. He sat back down, caught his breath, and continued with a much more pedagogic tone.

"Let's start from the beginning then. As far as I can tell, your system of Willpower is based on the idea that you can force the world to bend to your will, expending energy to do so. The tamrielic system of Magicka is different in that it uses a pool of special energy which it transforms into matter, energy and the like. Do you understand?"

Louise shook her head.

"Think of it this way then. If a mage using Willpower wanted to create a fireball, he would need to use a staff or wand as a focus, before forcing his will upon the world to create a sphere of flame. He might use a large amount of energy whilst doing this, and would need to eat and rest before undertaking a similar task again. Is this correct?"

Louise nodded, and added a small comment.

"Yes, but it would likely take more than one fireball to tire the mage out. Take Professor Colbert, he is a Square class fire mage, and could probably cast fireballs the size of my head continuously for nearly two hours before being too tired to continue."

Ysmir nodded in understanding, before continuing.

"But he **would** get winded. And after being exhausted, it would take him a considerable amount of time to be ready to continue. Magicka is quite different."

Louise interrupted him, unsure of what he was saying.

"Different how?"

Ysmir stood up, flexed his hand, and produced a small fireball in his palm.

"Well, firstly there is no need for a staff or any other foci, and secondly…"

He loosened the fireball whilst he was still speaking, and it scorched an area or the wall. Louise jumped back, startled.

"Even if this attack had completely burned out my reserves of Magicka, it regenerates extremely quickly. Even a mage with an extreme amount of power would only need to wait around half an hour to completely restore his power stock."

Louise very nearly gasped. No need for wands, and just having to rest for a few minutes to regain all of her power! If she actually managed to learn this strange magic, it would give her a gigantic edge over anyone who could potentially challenge her to a duel!

Ysmir noticed his summoner's eyes glazing over slightly, and how her lips formed a slightly disturbing grin. That was all well and good, but now she would need to actually learn.

"Well then, let us start with the basics of Magicka. Like I mentioned before, all spells are divided into schools. These schools consist of spells that share the same theory, applications and, generally, usage."

Louise pulled herself out of her daydreaming, in which she was sending fireball after fireball towards a certain red-haired germanian, and focused.

Ysmir continued.

There are seven schools of true magic all in all, but I don't think you are ready to spend time advancing enchanting, and I know nearly nothing of mysticism, so we will focus on the five biggest schools. Listen carefully, for to gain power at an acceptable rate you will need to focus on one or perhaps two schools."

Ysmir readied himself, and then started his explanation of the five biggest schools.

"Well, firstly we have Destruction. The name speaks for itself, and the school is all about harnessing fire, frost and lightning to defeat your enemies. It is definitely the most well-known of schools, and nearly everyone learn a few of its spells."

Ysmir summoned a small ball of flame in his hand whilst he talked, to give a demonstration.

"Secondly, there is Conjuration. This name is also quite explanatory, the school involves summoning creatures, raising undead and creating spectral weaponry. It has quite the bad reputation, as necromancy rarely comes without grave robbing, but is powerful nonetheless."

This time when Ysmir flexed his hands, a purple orb appeared. He cast the spell, which opened a small portal. Reaching in, his hand came out with a fiendish looking dagger, seemingly composed of purple light. He threw it on the floor, and it vanished in a purple blur. Louise spoke up.

"So, the summoning spell that brought you here would be classified as conjuration, had it used magicka?"

"Yes, I would say so. It is definitely most like a conjuration spell. Moving on, we have Alteration."

He stopped once again, and flexed his hand. A collection of light blue boxes appeared in his palm, and once he cast the spell blue light started emanating from his skin and armour.

"This school is somewhat like your whole system, because it forces the caster's will unto the world. This has many applications, such as making you more resistant to damage, transmuting minerals, flinging objects about, breathing under water and creating magical light, just to name a few. This school is generally used as a tool, or in conjunction with another school, as at lacks any real damage capabilities."

Keeping on with the demonstrations, Ysmir flexed his hand once more. A yellow orb, close to amber in colour, appeared in his hand.

"Now, this is my speciality. Restoration, of which I could be considered a master, is an exceptionally useful school for a very simple reason: Healing. This school deals with manipulation of life forces, which means it is used for healing, destroying undead, and warding off other spells. It is absolutely the school with the best reputation, as it just involves helping and aiding. I used this spell when you were damaged during the summoning."

Ysmir extended his hand towards her, and Louise felt invigorated as the amber light surrounded her.

"Lastly, we have Illusion. This school, in its basest of terms, involves messing with the heads of others. This school is extremely powerful when used correctly, but nearly everyone dismiss it because it is unnatural and difficult. I know only two spells in this school, both involving encouraging and empowering others, but I won't cast any one of them on you."

Louise was slightly taken aback by the wall of information approaching her ears, and spoke half in defence, half in awe.

"I get it, I really do. I will think about which schools to choose tomorrow, and we can begin training that very afternoon. Now, however, it is time to sleep. We have many things to do tomorrow."

Ysmir nodded, approached his bear skin and lay down, falling asleep almost immediately. Louise was right.

They had finally scratched the surface.

 **Author's comments:**

 **Ok, this chapter is longer than 2000 words. Good.**

 **Sadly, it is that long mainly because I chose to explain the differences in the systems, rather than any interesting content. Meh, whatever, let's get to the fun stuff.**

 **EASTER EGGS** **:**

 **There are two in this chapter, both concerning the new daggers Ysmir made:**

 **Firstly, in one passage Heron swords are mentioned. What book series am I referencing and what is the name of the main character?**

 **Secondly, Louise swears an oath concerning the daggers. What character from the Warcraft universe swears a similar oath?**

 **We also have the other two Easter eggs from chapter one:**

 **One about the opening, where I want the title of the fanfic I borrowed it from.**

 **The other one is about a certain scene that is very similar to a beloved piece of Warhammer Fanfiction. I'll give you a hint, it involves an Assassin specializing in sniping. I want the title of the fanfiction and the name of the Sniper.**

 **Before I release the next chapter I want at least one of these to be answered correctly, and this leads me to my next point:**

 **THE READER WHO ANSWERS THIS CORRECTLY WILL BE THE ONE TO DECIDE LOUISE'S FUTURE MAGIC SCHOOL(S).**

 **Have fun, oh ye of little pop-culture knowledge…**

 **Ossa9919 out!**


	9. Chapter 9: Espionage and Education

**Oh? What have we here then?**

 **Someone actually found out the Easter eggs!**

 **I am freaking proud of you both. Therefore, HONORARY MENTIONS:**

 **Rotciv557** **was the first one to answer both chapter eight Easter eggs, meaning they will decide which magic schools out favourite little void mage will focus on. I might add a spell or two here or there, but overall the tone has been set.**

 **The correct answer to the Heron Swords Easter egg: The wheel of Time, with protagonist Rand al'Thor, aka the Dragon Reborn.**

 **The correct answer to the Fang and Claw Easter egg: the Beast master, though Rexxar would have been correct as well.**

 **Also, someone else tracked down a chapter one Easter egg:**

 **dreammag** **identified the opening: it is indeed from Louise Valliere and the Madboy, by Empirialtank. You should read it, it's AMAZING, if a little brutal sometimes.**

 **With that out of the way, let us get going.**

Chapter nine: Espionage and Education

Louise woke up with a start, with her bed shaking as if subject to an earthquake spell. She crawled out of it and stood up, looking around to find the source of the disturbance.

She did not have to look long.

Ysmir was sleeping soundly, in his Daedric armour, but during the night he must have moved about. One of the many shoulder spikes protruding from his pauldrons had caught her bedframe, and as he inhaled and exhaled the pauldrons, and by extension her bedframe, moved up and down.

Louise dismissed the strange sight before her and looked out through her window. It was just before sunrise, meaning Ysmir's little accident with her bedframe had actually awoken her just before the morning meal. She felt a strong urge to thank him, when she realized how badly the bedframe was going to be damaged by this.

She decided to wake him up, but keep the praise back. Walking over to his face, she repeated the process she had used to wake him up yesterday.

She grabbed his ear and pulled for queen and country.

The bed was lifted nearly three decimetres before it came loose as Ysmir sat up and yawned. It slammed down into the floor, and the sound it made caused the dragonborn to look around, seemingly startled. After a few moments he dismissed it, stood up and turned to Louise.

"Morning, summoner. It seems to be a bit early, how come you woke me up?"  
As he scratched behind his ears, Ysmir followed her glare to the bed. A large hole, roughly spike-shaped, had appeared on the frame. He realized what must have occurred.

"Ah, sorry. I'll remove my pauldrons when I sleep from now on. Anyway, when are we going to begin your lessons in Magicka?"

Louise dropped any hint of anger, faced with the prospect of learning the insane magic her familiar had mentioned, and swiftly realized she had classes today.

"It will have to be in the late afternoon, when my classes are finished. Until then, why don't you familiarize yourself with the Academy grounds? You did say you hadn't seen the entirety of the area yesterday, and we need to find a good spot for training."

Ysmir nodded, seemingly content.

"That seems like a good idea. If nothing else, it will help me pass the time. Perhaps I'll find some more minor quests. Speaking of things to do, have you thought about which schools to choose?"

Louise hadn't, but now that she thought about the options Ysmir had described yesterday there was really only one option. Or, perhaps she should say two options.

"Yes, I have. You say Alteration is the most versatile, and that seems like a good starting point. However, I need to trick people into believing I have an elemental alignment, and just being able to transmute won't convince people I'm an Earth mage. Thus, I will pick up destruction so I can give the illusion of being a Fire mage, if only to give me some more offensive power."

Satisfied with the answer, Ysmir answered.

"I though as much. That combination is used by nearly all spellswords, who are magic-wielding mercenaries, for its versatility and survivability. I think you should learn a very basic Healing spell too, though, just in case."

Louise accepted the terms and took a look at the sun. Breakfast should open right about now, and so she bid her Familiar farewell for now, threw him the key to the room and headed toward nourishment and tastiness. Ysmir lingered a bit longer, looking at the beautiful sunrise, before he too left the room and locked the door behind him.

As he had nothing on the agenda but exploration, the dragonborn settled into an old routine he had developed whilst exploring nearly all of Tamriel.

He placed his hands behind his back and started walking at a slow, but entirely acceptable pace, making sure to catch every detail whilst he walked. He felt no need to make any maps this time around, as he was beginning to get accustomed to the area, and so he just trekked on peacefully, letting his mind wander.

He soon found himself walking across the green court surrounding the main tower, heading for the only one of the five smaller towers that did not have a walkway to it. This intrigued the dragonborn, and he set course for the door to the tower. He recalled Louise mentioning the five elements used in the strange magic they though here, and as there was five smaller towers, each with a differently coloured roof, he (correctly) assumed the towers were named after the elements. Seeing as Louise had mentioned there not having existed any Void mages for a long time, he also realised that the tower before him, with a black roof, must be the Tower of Void.

As Ysmir arrived at the door to the tower, he noted that the door, made from something that looked like grey wood but felt just like stone, was closed. Judging from the relatively high grass in front if the door, with no signs of having ever been trampled, the tower was not visited very often. So, what could be in there?

Ysmir tried to pull the door handle. It did not even budge. He checked the hinges. They were big and heavy, but not rusty, so the door was either locked or stuck so hard even the dragonborn couldn't move it.

A normal man might have given up. A normal man had not defeated every enemy and crushed every threat in his world to be beaten by A FREAKING DOOR.

Ysmir was very close to blasting the door to smithereens with Unrelenting Force. Yet, he caught himself before he did so. Brute force might be easy, but victory was so much sweeter when the threat was deceived, rather than just beaten.

He stood straight, but reminded himself to first make sure there was no one watching him, as he was almost certain that breaking and entering was illegal here. It was in Skyrim, and the people of Skyrim were more open-minded about certain things than people in other places.

He spoke a word in the dragon tongue, no louder than a whisper.

" _ **Laas**_."

As he looked around now, red auras appeared, most within the main tower and a few in the other ones. None of them seemed to be in the Void tower, and thus he went through with his plan of breaking and entering. He spoke three other words, a little louder this time.

" _ **Feim Zii Gron**_."

Ysmir prepared himself, and when the tug came he was ready for it. His spirit was seemingly stretched out to cover his entire body, which he had never quite grown accustomed to. That was one of the reasons he rarely used this Thu'um.

Recovering from the initial shock, Ysmir simply walked through the door. Once inside, he found himself in total darkness. He flexed his hand, and cast a certain spell that had proven useful to him many times.

Candlelight.

The ethereal effect diminished, and his spirit retreated into his body. A white and blue orb of light hovered above his head, providing enough light for him to take a real look at the place he was currently in.

He was standing in what appeared to be a storeroom, with chairs and desks stacked upon each other, as well as crates with books and bottles of ink. Ysmir concluded that they were using the empty tower as a storage facility, having no other practical use for it. However, a staircase on his left restored his curiosity.

As he walked up the stairs, Ysmir found something he had not hoped for.

More storage space, this time almost entirely filled with rolled up bedclothes and mats. The dust lay thick in this room, and only a few fluctuations in the dust layer indicated anyone had ever been here. Slightly disappointed with the find, Ysmir spotted another stair. Not expecting anything but more storage space and perhaps a window, he was pleasantly surprised.

The third floor was not just much less infested by dust, it also sported two doors, which upon inspection led out onto a walkway on the Academy walls, likely used by the academy guards when they patrolled the area at night. A few benches and tables stood around, but seemed to be used very rarely, if ever. The guards, if they were anything like any other guards, would likely walk their rounds as quickly as possible to get back to their warm beds, and thus would not dawdle here.

There was another stair on the left however, and now Ysmir had gotten happier. If nothing else, the area he had just found would be somewhat easy to remake into a makeshift training room, perfect to practice Louise's skills without alerting anyone to their presence. Sadly, they would have to stop training before the guards started their patrols, but that shouldn't be a very big problem.

As he came up the stairs to the final, fourth floor, Ysmir changed his mind. They wouldn't practice Louise's spell craft on the third floor.

Not when there existed an empty classroom on the fourth floor.

There were no chairs, but the area wasn't cluttered with furniture or particularly dusty, and half the room was raised periodically like a terrace, presumably for chairs so that all the students could see the teacher with little trouble. It would also make for excellent target placement once they got to simple projectile spells.

It was perfect.

Ysmir spent a few moments thanking the divines for the mighty gift he had received, and then used the walkways on the floor below to get to the main academy building via the tower of Fire.

 _Heads up, viewpoint change_

Kirche was bored out of her mind, and that had nothing to do with the class she was currently attending. Well, it probably did, but she chose to focus on another annoyance. She had not skipped class, since she thought Louise's familiar might join her to class, like most familiars did unless they were too rambunctious. (Or too big, like in the case of Sylphid)

However, Louise had showed up without her familiar, and if one could be judged by their facial expression, pretty happy with herself. She had even greeted Kirche without any hostility, and that had never happened before. This was either really good or really bad, and right now it was leaning towards "Really bad".

When the class finally ended Kirche walked right up to Louise, who was picking up her books and notes whilst the others left the classroom in search of lunch. Louise looked up, and then continued to collect her things.

Not even a cold "Zerbst"? Things were indeed bad. Kirche wanted information, but she was going to have to disguise it.

"So, Louise, where has that familiar of yours run off to? I was looking to pay him a visit, but I couldn't find him…"

Louise looked up, a slight shade of irritation over her face for a moment, but then she just ignored the implications Kirche had made. Even stranger, she actually answered the question!

"He has been walking around the Academy, familiarizing himself with the grounds. We are to meet after classes today, you are welcome to join us if you want to."

Just as she said that, Louise realized what she was offering the germanian who had teased her for two years straight. If she actually insisted on coming along, then the training would have to be postponed another day! Now, however, it was too late. All she could do was wait and see what the redhead said.

Kirche saw the confidence behind the smug grin her rival was sporting, and decided against going along with her unknown plans.

"No thanks, I'll just grab him tomorrow. Or maybe tonight, we'll see. Bye for now, Louise!"

When Kirche walked out of the classroom, Louise breathed in. she had done it, she had actually tricked the germanian seducer to willingly deny coming along! This deserved celebration. She decided on a visit to the library, and reading a book purely for its stories, rather than any facts.

Kirche walked towards the refectory, silently planning. She wouldn't come with Louise just like that. This required a stealthy approach. She would shadow Louise in the evening, to see what she was getting up to with her maybe-dragon of a familiar. Of course, she had to bring someone who could cast a good Silence spell. Someone who was already involved, and who was as interested as she was about the strange familiar.

Tabitha would be thrilled.

 **Author's comments:**

 **Wohooo! Lots of words! Whilst it might be a slight bit boring, at least this chapter, too, hit the 2000 word count.**

 **Anyways, on to Easter eggs!**

 **There is still one left from chapter one, guys. It is about a certain scene that is very similar to a beloved piece of Warhammer Fanfiction. I'll give you a hint, it involves an Assassin specializing in sniping. I want the title of the fanfiction and the name of the Sniper.**

 **There are also one Easter egg in this chapter, as well as an easy challenge.**

 **The Easter egg :**

 **Ysmir mentions something before he enters the Tower of Void which is very similar to a line said by a beloved character in the elder scrolls universe. I want the name of the character, the name of the character's father, and the name of the character's grandfather.**

 **The Challenge :**

 **Ysmir uses two Thu'ums this chapter. What are their full names and the translation of the six words that make them up?**

 **I want at least one of these answered when I upload the next chapter. Otherwise Louise might just burn something down…**


	10. Chapter 10: Accidents and Duels

**Ok guys, I am doing it. I promised you violence, and now you're getting violence. Hopefully, at least. I am not sure how I will do the Guiche fight, but I'll come up with something.**

 **Now, enough of my rambling; we have an HONORARY MENTION:**

 **Bartholomew620** **was the first one to defeat my challenge, which was very simple, seeing as there were several others who also answered correctly. Still, good job!**

 **No one has answered the other two remaining Easter eggs. Ah well, it will happen someday…**

 **I have decided to tone down the threats, seeing as I usually have already started on the next chapter by the time the first Easter egg answers roll in.**

 **Instead, I have decided that starting from now, whoever answers the Easter eggs or challenges will have a small say in how the story goes. Nothing major, but enough to make a difference. Good hunting!**

 **Now, without further delay, I'll start writing the chapter.**

Chapter ten: Accidents and Duels

As Louise exited the classroom where she had just had another unsuccessful lesson in earth magic, she was nearly laughing with glee. She had tricked Kirche, and the germanian had not suspected anything!

As she walked on down the corridor toward the stairs, she calmed herself down and focused on her future lessons. Ysmir had said they would start today, and her familiar did not seem to be one to break his word. As she had spent nearly five hours in class, she was very confident he would have found a safe spot for training. She could hardly wait!

She pulled herself back to the present. Lunch first, then magic. She headed towards the refractory with a noticeable spring to her steps. Her smile shocked most of her fellow students, and some started whispering amongst themselves.

For the first time, Louise found that she did not care. Let them whisper, soon she would possess power none of them could even dream about! As she arrived in the refectory and looked around, she spotted her familiar walking in the corridor that connected into the great hall, hands on his back and smile on his lips.

Ysmir saw Louise sitting alone on the edge of a table, with no one sitting within six chairs of her. He decided to sit down opposite to her, if only to provide them both with some conversation.

However, he did not have the chance.

As Ysmir picked up his pace and walked towards the archway where the corridor connected with the refectory, he failed to realize some of the students might also want to exit through that same archway. He did not notice a blond young man with a frilly shirt accompany his girlfriend toward the exit, and as they moved close to the wall he had very little time to react when they rounded the corner and smashed into a wall of Daedric armour, and consequently fell on their bottoms and gasped.

The young man seemed to recover first, and he stepped in front of the girl to protect her from this anomaly. He obviously tried to sound heroic, but what came out of his throat sounded akin to combining an oboe and a horn.

"Stay back, fair Montmorency, for I shall protect you from this brute! Who are you, and how dare you attack us unprovoked?!"

Ysmir was just about to apologise for the crash, when the girl who had run into him called out in pain. As she stood up, a small circle of red began forming on her thin upper arm. She seemed to have cut herself on his armour. The blonde fop turned around, quick as the eye could see, and caught the girl presumably named Montmorency as she fell to the ground. It seemed she did not handle well with seeing her own blood, if only a little quantity.

Quite a crowd had formed around the spectacle, with Louise desperately trying to see what was going on but finding she was too short to look over the others and too weak to force her way through.

The blonde fop carefully laid Montmorency on the floor before turning around twirling a rose between his fingers.

"You have harmed a fair lady, you peasant brute! What say you in your defence?"

Ysmir, feeling action would be better than talk, quickly retrieved a small red bottle from his backpack and gave it to the boy violently pointing a flower at him. As the young man took the bottle with a quizzical expression, Ysmir felt it time to speak.

"I am sorry, but I did not see you. That bottle contains a potion of minor well-being, and it will definitely heal a wound that small. Again, I did not mean to hurt you, but at least some of the blame is not on me. You did come around the corner…"

The boy interrupted him mid-apology.

"You smash into a fair lady, damage her, and then try to place the blame on nobility!? For your own sake, I hope this potion is indeed enough to heal her, lest I, Guiche de garmont, execute you where you stand."

As the crowd watched, Guiche opened the bottle and smelled its contents, trying to determine whether it was poisonous. As the fresh smell of berries and the earthy fragrance of roots reached his nose, he felt convinced enough and poured the contents of the bottle, a red liquid with tones of green and blue, down his girlfriend's throat. After a few short moments, an aura of amber light surrounded Montmorency and she sat up, seemingly completely refreshed.

Guiche, looking fairly relieved and with a more confident tone, turned around and faced Ysmir once more.

"Your potion may have worked, but you still harmed her in the first place! And, not to forget, you tried to make both her and me take the blame! I might not execute you right now, peasant, but I will harm you as you have harmed my love! I, Guiche de Garmont, hereby challenge you to a duel!"

Montmorency stood up and placed a hand on Guiche's shoulder.

"Guiche, that is really not necessary. We did bump in to him, so half the blame is indeed on us."

Guiche shrugged off her hand, and turned to her.

"Fair Montmorency, please, let me do this, for our honour!"

As Montmorency prepared to refuse, Ysmir negated the need to do so.

"Well then, a Duel? You make bold claims, youngling, but can you match them? It has been a long time since I was in a real fight, so I will accept. When and where?"

Guiche smiled smugly, and spoke with the confidence of a man who has seen something happen all his life, and will now partake.

"I will accompany you to the Vestri Court, so as to make sure you do not run away."

He raised his voice for the next sentence.

"And I insist everyone here should come with us, and witness the glorious duel about to take place!"

The large majority of the students watching seemed very content with the idea, and when Guiche started walking they, and Ysmir, followed. Louise finally caught up with Ysmir as they reached the Vestri court, a triangular grass covered area between the main tower, the tower of Fire and the tower of Wind.

"Familiar, what on earth do you think you're doing? He is a Noble! You can't duel with him!"

Ysmir laughed, and crouched so that he was on her level. Then, there was suddenly steel in his voice, and his eyes lit up with excitement and power.

"Don't worry for me, Summoner. Worry for the blonde fop, for I am going to take him down a few pegs. Remember, I know magic too. And, though you have not seen it yet, I don't carry these weapons for show. This will be an excellent time to show you that even a warrior could defeat a mage, so perhaps I'll fight without magic or potions this time."

As Louise realised what her familiar was saying, and remembered his demonstrations yesterday, she accepted his words. He was not primarily a mage, he had said so himself, but he could probably take Guiche down with his magic alone. This would be an easy victory, and it would portray Ysmir as strong. And by extension, she would seem strong as well.

Knowing this, she backed down, with a few final words directed to Ysmir. She spoke high and clear, making sure everyone heard.

"Do not hurt him beyond healing."

Most of the students seemed to laugh it off, but a strange silence fell upon the ones who knew Louise better than the others. She had spoken with no emotion whatsoever, just a slight bit of concern. Perhaps the strange familiar really knew how to do battle? He did look threatening, after all…

Kirche and Tabitha were among the last to arrive. They would not miss an opportunity like this to study their enemy, or potential future lover.

As the crowd formed a ring, about twenty meters across, Ysmir spoke, and his voice once again sounded like there were several men standing in his place, all speaking at once.

"This is your last chance to back down, Guiche de Garmont. I will not kill you, but I might hurt you badly if you do not submit."

Guiche looked a little frightened, but shoved the fear under the metaphorical carpet and retaliated.

"Funny, I was just about to say the same thing. Very well, I will not kill you either, but I might rough you up a bit!"

He waved his wand, and a single petal dropped from the rose. Where it landed a circle of blue light appeared, and out of it grew a strange figure. It was made of metal, and looked like a woman's suit of armour, but with incredibly thin waist and enormous pauldrons. The helmet was equipped with two wings, and purple light shone where the eyes should have been. The strange construct carried a spear in one of its gauntlets, and stood a little above 1.8 meters.

"My name is indeed Guiche de Garmont, but my runic title is "the bronze", and therefore a bronze Valkyrie shall be your opponent."

Ysmir turned his head very slightly, and addressed Louise, who was standing behind him.

"See, he is a conjurer. This likely means he has little ways to protect himself, should the construct fall. And since he is using Willpower to create it, I can simply outlast him. Also, that is not alive, right?"

Louise replied that it was indeed just a lump of metal powered my magic, and immediately Ysmir changed. He lowered his stance, raised his shoulders, pulled out his mace, and lifted his strange disc-shield. Guiche saw this, and mentally ordered the Valkyrie to attack.

The fight was just beginning.

 **Okay guys, sorry for the cliffhanger, but it is getting very late (or perhaps early?) and I need to get some sleep. I start school in two days. Just putting that out there.**

 **Now, there are no real easter eggs in this chapter, so her are two challenges instead:**

 **Challenge 1:**

 **Louise has been learning Earth magic when this chapter starts. What is the name of the Earth magic teacher and what is the first spell we see them cast?**

 **Challenge 2:**

 **Ysmir hands Guiche a potion of Well-being. Who in the elder scrolls universe sells these?**

 **Also, remember that we still have one of the Easter gees from chapter one:**

 **It is about a certain scene that is very similar to a beloved piece of Warhammer Fanfiction. I'll give you a hint, it involves an Assassin specializing in sniping. I want the title of the fanfiction and the name of the Sniper.**

 **We also have the Easter egg from the last chapter:**

 **In chapter nine, Ysmir mentions something before he enters the Tower of Void which is very similar to a line said by a beloved character in the elder scrolls universe. I want the name of the character, the name of the character's father, and the name of the character's grandfather.**

 **See you soon, and good hunting.**


	11. Chapter 11: Warrior versus Conjurer

… **Ok, ok, I'm really sorry for the cliffhanger. It was really late, or early, I was tired, I have school tomorrow, and I really wanted to get a chapter out. On the plus side, though, Violence ahoy!**

 **For those who are wondering, because I know you exist, me going back to school should not slow down the writing too much. I did start this out in the middle of September, after all.**

 **As for Easter eggs and challenges, no one has answered any Easter eggs, which is not really a surprise, and several people has answered the easy challenge, which is not really a surprise either. The first one to answer is a known face 'round these parts:**

 **Rotciv557 has impressed once again with timing and strange knowledge, and was the first one to correctly identify the Earth magic teacher, Ms Chevreuse, and the Transmutation spell she casts in the first episode. As a reward, some of the outcomes of this chapter has been set.**

 **Once again, I am extremely sorry for the end of the last chapter. Now, onto the fighting! Ten septims on the big one!**

Chapter eleven: Warrior versus Conjurer

Guiche mentally ordered the Valkyrie forward, and it lifted its spear and charged, similarly to how a knight might ride with a lance. For a metal being, it was surprisingly agile, but Ysmir was ready.

Smooth as water and barely making a sound, he sidestepped the attack and brought his mace down where the neck would be, had the construct possessed one. Now, it just knocked the helmet of and seriously buckled the back of the breastplate. A loud, cringe worthy sound of metal being ripped apart filled the Vestri court, and cringe the crowd did.

The mace had seemingly hit a weak spot in the armour, causing the breastplate to deform and rip from the joints that held the rest of the construct together. The now headless and severely damaged Valkyrie took one step, then two, and then disintegrated into white fragments, which in turn seemed to disappear like snowflakes in a furnace.

Guiche stood still, as if paralysed, but when Ysmir returned to his previous stance and began moving forward, slowly, he snapped out of whatever was holding him.

"Hah! You may get lucky once, but you won't get lucky thrice!"

As he spoke, he whipped the rose wand in a wide arch before him. Three petals dropped, each spawning a Valkyrie similar to the first one. However, these were all armed with shields and one-handed weapons: a longsword, a thin axe and a heavy mace. As they advanced together, Ysmir stood still, shield raised high. He lowered his mace, leaned back for a moment and then charged.

Even though the Valkyries tried to form a shield wall to protect their master, Ysmir sported enough strength to easily force his way through. The three constructs each flew several meters away, disintegrated like the first one, and Guiche found himself standing face to face with Ysmir.

He was close to giving up. Really, really close. But Montmorency was right there, and he had to put up some kind of fight!

Guiche jumped back, and waved his rose once more. The construct spawned was different than the others: it was taller than Ysmir, which in itself was a feat, and it sported more lifelike proportions. It also clanged a lot more when it moved, so it was likely much heavier. Guiche felt slightly more confident now.

"My father, the great general Gramont, helped me shape this creation! You may have beaten its lackeys, but you cannot hope to beat the Valkyrie Queen!"

The Valkyrie queen brandished a two-handed greatsword, and Ysmir dodged a wide swipe. The blade, made of the same material as the construct, got caught between the spikes on his left pauldron. Ysmir realized his luck, and swiftly brought his mace down on the middle of the blade, breaking it in two with a horrible crash. Whoever had the idea of making a longsword out of bronze was probably kicking themselves right now for not choosing a stronger material.

The Valkyrie queen jumped back, discarded the broken sword, and came at him armed with nothing but the heavy gauntlets it was sporting. Ysmir fell back, hiding behind his shield, only occasionally damaging the construct. Then, he seemingly had enough.

He retreated back a few meters, and then breathed in heavily. Guiche was surprised, and curious, and ordered the Valkyrie queen to go back to a defensive stance. Just as the construct moved, however, Ysmir released his Thu'um.

" _ **FUS RO DAH!"**_

A thundering crack, louder than even a lightning spell, shocked the students watching. Most went down on their knees, holding their ears.

A shockwave of pure force travelled with extreme speed from Ysmir's mouth towards the construct. The gigantic Valkyrie tried to stand against it, but was ultimately launched over the three meter high walls of the academy, disintegrating in the air.

Guiche stood shocked. The peasant brute had defeated his ultimate weapon, his Valkyrie Queen, and now he had too little energy left to fight back. He realised that he must follow the ancient ways, lest he lose his honour.

He bowed his head, something he very rarely did to anyone, and spoke. Perhaps he sounded slightly shocked, and perhaps his voice broke, but at least he said it.

"I… I, Guiche de Gramont, give up. You win this duel, familiar. But tell me, how did you do that? Are you a magic user?!"

Ysmir grabbed the boy's shoulder, raising him from the bow.

"That was no magic, lad, that is just an ancient Nordic form of battle. It is power that comes from the soul, forged into a weapon. But it is good that you knew when to forfeit. Your heart is in the right place, since you did this to protect your girl, but you need to temper that passion and flair with caution and respect for your fellow people. Remember that, for the best tactics are passed on by the survivors."

As Ysmir finished his speech, he turned to Louise and led her back into the main tower. Good eavesdroppers might have heard something about training, and the Tower of Void. If you had removed his left gauntlet during the fight, you would have found the runes engraved there glowing white.

 _Heads up, viewpoint change_

Kirche and Tabitha followed Louise and her familiar, at the respectable distance of about thirty meters. They did not make a sound, partly because Tabitha had cast a portable, invisible bubble of silencing magic around them and partly because their instincts were screaming at them to stay quiet, even though they knew no sound would travel outside the bubble.

As Louise followed her maybe-dragon out on the walkway leading to the tower of Fire, Kirche felt slightly more secure in her mission. She had not been detected yet, which was very good and somewhat surprising. She had not counted on Tabitha's seemingly extreme skill at going about with her missions undetected, and since Kirche could read their body language to find out when they would turn around the two girls made a surprisingly effective team.

Ysmir led Louise through the Tower of fire, and out on the walkways situated on the Academy walls themselves. Kirche had been here from time to time, mostly with one of her lovers who enjoyed the thrill of meeting under the night sky, knowing they could be caught at any moment. Kirche had been forced to flee last time they tried that, when the guards, just doing their job, interrupted their little session. The boy had taken the blame, as she knew he would, but even after he had been relegated from the academy she swore to never take such risks again. Now, it seemed she was investigating a dragon as a possible lover. Vows were made to be broken, it seemed.

As Louise and her familiar continued towards the tower of Void, Kirche and Tabitha stayed behind in the tower of Fire until they were sure that the two they were following had stayed behind in the tower before them. Both of them knew that no classes took place in the tower of Void, and had assumed it was used as a storage facility. Either way, the tower was not technically off-limits for students, but it was kept locked. Neither of them had been there.

Tabitha motioned to the door leading to Kirche's room, which just so happened to be in that very same tower. As they entered, Tabitha dismissed the silence bubble for a moment.

"Invisibility spell. Involves extremely complicated magic. Will need extra strength. Borrow?"

Kirche understood, and nodded. Invisibility was a rare spell, and not often seen, pun not intended. The amount of energy needed to render someone fully invisible was staggering, so much so that even a square class wind mage could only hold the spell for a few minutes, tops, before passing out from the exhaustion.

"That's okay. You can have some of my energy."

At that, Tabitha took her hand, and Kirche felt a small tug of energy leaving her already.

"Will not be able to keep silence spell up. Move quietly, and quickly."

Kirche nodded, and then gasped. She suddenly felt very tired, like she had been running for nearly an hour.

An aura of blue energy seemed to surround both Kirche and Tabitha. Within a few seconds, they were completely gone. Kirche supported Tabitha, who was having trouble walking, and they quickly crossed the walkway. Once they entered the tower of Void, they came upon an empty room, furnished with a few benches and a table. However, light was coming from above the stairs, and they managed to scale them. Once up, they quickly found a few benches pushed to the side of the room, and dove behind them just as the spell wore off. As Kirche peeked out towards the middle of the room with Tabitha passed out by her side, she had trouble believing her eyes.

 _You think I'm going to leave you with another cliffhanger? Viewpoint change!_

As Louise followed Ysmir to the tower of Void, she recalled some boy being caught out on the walkway after dark a few months back. He had been expelled from the academy. That was not a pleasant thought.

When they entered the tower, she was a slight bit surprised; there were benches and tables everywhere, and Ysmir had mentioned cleaning up. Then, her familiar motioned for her to brave the stairs and go up a floor.

When she saw the empty classroom, she very nearly gave an evil cackle. There were targets made from mats, rope and bedclothes lined up against one side of the wall, and all of the desks and chairs previously littering the place had been laid in a big pile close to the stairs. It was empty, it was quiet, and no one would check on them. It was perfect!

Ysmir stood where the teacher's desk had stood before, and started his lecture.

"Now, you said you wished to focus on Alteration, with Destruction as a secondary school?"

Louise nodded. She had chosen those two.

"Good. Then, we begin with the most important lesson. Whatever you learn theoretically, it is of little use to you without practical applications. That goes the opposite way too: even if you can send flames forward or harden your skin, it will be of little use to you unless you are attacked or need to attack."

As he spoke, Ysmir flexed his hand and produced an orb of fire, no visually different from the one he had shown her yesterday. When he directed his palm towards one of the targets, however a steady stream of flame was produced instead of a single ball.

"We will start with the simple spell known as Flames. It will produce a stream of fire, does not cost a large amount of magicka, and is generally quite easy to learn. It is also extremely useful, in more ways than one; lighting fires, warmth, learning the basic theory of all destruction, and so on."

Louise readied herself, and if possible payed even more attention. This was going to be her first successful spell since the summoning, and it was huge for her.

"Now, let go of your feelings, and thoughts, as best you can. All that matters is focus and energy. Imagine a lake, as big as your eye can see, and try to create a small stream from the lake."

Louise did as she had been told, and was surprised to feel a strange influx energy seemingly from nowhere.

"Now, focus on the stream. You'll find it difficult to stop it entirely, so instead try to divert it. Lead it to your hand, and try to pool it there."

Ysmir watched his summoner struggle to do the exercise, but it was necessary. This way of thinking about it could be applied to nearly any spell in nearly any school, and it was important that she learned it properly.

"Now, once you feel the pool, try to change its shape. Fill it with feelings of warmth, of flames, of anything you could associate with fire. Once you have done that, focus on the image of a single, lit candle."

It took a few seconds of Louise wrinkling her brow, but when she finally succeeded the sight was beautiful. She opened her eyes, very slowly, and found a small orb of fire hovering above her palm.

She stared at the orb. Concentrated on it, tried to feed it more images of fire. It grew a little bigger. She was controlling it. It stayed there, in her hand, without burning her or singing her gloves. She had full control, and she was doing magic.

SHE WAS DOING MAGIC!

Louise the Zero, with a zero percent success rate? Not anymore. She had just performed a feat that likely no one else, bar Ysmir, on this planet could replicate. And it was magic.

Louise stood there for what seemed like an eternity, staring into the fire in her hand.

Once Ysmir decided that she had stared enough, after nearly half a minute, he tapped her shoulder. Louise let out a startled sound and the fireball disappeared.

"Now, try to summon it again. It should get easier with each try."

Louise did so, and found that it only took the image of a flame to summon the fire this time. She tentatively thought of water, and the flame went out. She thought of fire again, and it reappeared. She realized that she could just stand here all day, doing nothing but this, over and over.

Ysmir coughed, and she was pulled back to reality.

"Now, that is all well and good, but to actually use it we must project the flame. Aim your arm toward the wall, try to make the stream larger, until there is a river of Magicka flowing from the lake into your flame, launching it forward."

Louise did so, and lo and behold, for the fire was indeed launched forward. Only a few meters, and not in a very thick stream, but it was working!

Louise dismissed the flame, and gave her familiar a hug, whilst letting out a few tears of joy.

Ysmir answered in kind, slightly surprised, and decided to do something fun to lighten up the mood. He freed himself from her grasp.

"Now, we should focus on destruction today, but here you see a little trick you can do with a bit of semi-high level alteration."

As he spoke, he summoned a strange form of blue, purple and red into his hand. As he cast the spell, he disappeared.

Louise was amazed, but that feeling was swiftly replaced by anger, shock and some degree of shame when Ysmir reappeared behind the pile of benches and chairs, holding a very surprised Kirche by the scruff of her neck. He, unlike any of the others, was smiling.

"We seem to have a little spy."

 **Author's comments:**

 **That was the longest chapter thus far, and it turned out pretty good, if I do say so myself. I went with the idea that Guiche was directing his Valkyries like puppets, meaning they would be easily destroyed if he lost his focus, and it worked pretty well. I would have had some blood, but Rotciv insisted on a decisive but not humiliating victory when he got to decide.**

 **I'm pretty tired now. On to the Easter eggs!**

 **There is one in this chapter:**

 **After beating Guiche, Ysmir unknowingly (or perhaps knowingly) quotes a very famed fighter in the Elder scrolls universe. He is one of very few characters who have been mentioned in elder scrolls I through V, as well as ESO, and I want his name and the historical battle where he died.**

 **There are also some old ones:**

 **In chapter ten, Ysmir hands Guiche a potion of Well-being. Who in the elder scrolls universe sells these?**

 **There is one left from chapter one:**

 **It is about a certain scene that is very similar to a beloved piece of Warhammer Fanfiction. I'll give you a hint, it involves an Assassin specializing in sniping. I want the title of the fanfiction and the name of the Sniper.**

 **And the last one:**

 **In chapter nine, Ysmir mentions something before he enters the Tower of Void which is very similar to a line said by a beloved character in the elder scrolls universe. I want the name of the character, the name of the character's father, and the name of the character's grandfather.**


	12. Chapter 12: Blackmail and Preparation

**Well, shit.**

 **What do you know, he did it again. Crap.**

 **Rotciv557 has, once again, done the nearly impossible and found TWO Easter eggs. You other guys are getting outclassed, you better step your game up before he gets to decide everything! One of you have stepped up your game:**

 **Leviathanhunter575 solved the chapter nine Easter egg: it is indeed M'aiq the Liar.**

 **The correct answer to the quote egg from chapter eleven:**

" **The best techniques are passed on by the survivors." –Gaiden Shinji, who died during the siege of Orsinium.**

 **The correct answer to the Potion of well-being Easter egg:**

 **Elyena Mothren, the mycologist from Tel Mithryn, is the only alchemist who sells these potions by anything other than chance.**

 **This is not good, guys. Well, not for you. I will still get to write my story.**

 **Speaking of writing, let's get to it.**

 **Chapter twelve:**

Kirche was shocked, Louise was angry and shocked, Tabitha just passed out from exhaustion and Ysmir was smiling wider than ever. Louise was the first to break the silence.

"What in Brimir's name are you doing here, Zebrst?!"

Kirche seemed to calm down, and when she answered, still hanging by the scruff of her neck, it was with her normal voice, albeit a bit shrill.

"What am I doing here? The question is, what are you doing?! What was that magic, and how did you do it without a wand?! Also, LET ME DOWN."

Ysmir let her go, and pointed to the unconscious form that was Tabitha.

"Umm, I don't want to interrupt, but why is there a girl passed out here? Is she okay?"

Kirche answered him, not breaking the stare contest she seemed to be having with Louise.

"She'll be fine, she just expended too much energy. She needs to sleep and eat before she can cast anything major, though."

Ysmir flexed his hand, and faced the Gallian princess.

"Well, lack of energy? I can remedy that."

As he extended his hand toward her, amber light surrounded her body. A few seconds later, she woke up.

As Tabitha tried to remember where she was, Louise broke the staring contest. She asked a question, but it sounded more like an accusation.

"Why would you follow us? We have done nothing wrong, and surely you have better things to do?"

As Kirche tried to think of a good answer, one that didn't involve disclosing their theory about Ysmir, Tabitha felt it time to come clean. If nothing else, the maybe-dragon might not kill them if it learned that they didn't pose an immediate threat. She stood up, faced Louise and motioned to Ysmir with her staff.

"Familiar. Dangerous? Sylphid thinks he is a dragon. True?"

Louise was taken slightly aback by the cold stare Tabitha sent her way, but before she could answer Ysmir stepped in.

"Yes and no, to both questions. I am dragonborn, so I have the soul of a dragon contained within a human. I am dangerous, but never to anyone who do not attack me first."

Tabitha was not convinced.

"Dragon soul. Prove?"

Ysmir nodded, it was a sensible request, and stepped back into the middle of the room. Three pairs of eyes turned to him, and he breathed in.

" _ **MUL QAH DIIV"**_

Before their eyes, a transformation occurred. A layer of orange and white energy surrounded Ysmir, following his contours at first. Then, the aura started changing. Spectral scales formed and covered the entirety of his body, and two spectral horns grew from his head. His voice boomed; more so than usual.

"THIS IS THE DRAGON ASPECT. NOW, HAVE I CONVINCED YOU?"

Tabitha nodded. It was good enough. Sylphid had said that he felt like a dragon after all, not that he smelled or looked like one.

Kirche broke the silence with a confused question.

"…So, what happens now?"

Louise answered, still somewhat angry.

"Well, what do you think?! You get out of here, and never speak of this again."

"No way! I will not let you, of all people, outclass me in fire magic. I will keep quiet, that much I agree on, but I want to learn that magic too."

Tabitha nodded in agreement.

"Tactical advantage. Being able to cast quickly, without wand. Will learn."

Ysmir nodded, seemingly content. His aura disappeared before he spoke.

"Well then, I do believe we have a deal! I will teach you two, as well as Louise, and you will not speak of this. Now, for which schools to choose… I will need to prepare more. Your lessons start tomorrow evening, after the spectacle Louise mentioned. What was it called, again?"

Kirche and Louise answered at the same time, and seemed equally aggravated by that fact.

"The Familiar Evaluation Fair!"

Something dawned on Louise, and she stomped angrily into the floor.

"Oh crap, we have not prepared anything! We'll be laughingstock if we don't come up with something impressive!"

Kirche smiled, and nodded.

"Ah well, since Flame and I will win no matter what you do it does not really matter."

Louise seemed to change colour, like a chameleon, turning very red in an instant.

"Oh we'll see about that. We have more tricks than you might think!"

Kirche and Tabitha bid them a good afternoon, Kirche slightly more verbally, and they headed back to their respective rooms and respective familiars.

Meanwhile, Louise and Ysmir spent the remainder of the evening going over what abilities they had yet to reveal, and which ones it was actually safe to reveal. Whilst Ysmir's magic was the most impressive, Louise insisted that they could not reveal that. She knew, more so than he realized, that a large amount of the population would call out Ysmir, and by extension her, as heretics opposing the beliefs and teachings of the founder. The punishment for heresy was usually swift, and harsh. You never knew when to expect the Brimiric Inquisition.

So, they went over what they had to work with. The semi-magic battle cries Ysmir had demonstrated during the duel seemed like a good idea, as well as his draconic aspect, but perhaps they should stick to a simple number about his combat abilities? Ysmir had strange questions as well, and Louise did her best to answer them.

The discussion went on until they heard the first guards on the floor below, patrolling the walkways in search of burglars or nocturnal attackers. Once that happened they sneaked out, with Ysmir moving surprisingly quietly for one clad in so heavy armour.

They retreated to Louise's room, and continued their planning until the hour was late and the moons cast a strange glow over the lands below.

 _Heads up, viewpoint change_

Matilda was walking down one of the many spiral staircases located in the main Tower of the academy. She reached her destination quickly and efficiently; she had memorized the shortest way there by now. There was no good reason for her to come here, but she really wanted to see her prize one last time before she finally took it.

Two massive doors, made from the strongest oak and strengthened with both metal and spell craft. The spells protecting the room that lay beyond the door were not only extremely powerful, but also VERY numerous. It was necessary, seeing as some of the most powerful objects in the world were housed in this very Vault.

And it made sense, really. You had to be a powerful mage in order to teach at a magic academy, so the vault would always be protected by several powerful mages. It was also worth remembering that over five centuries back, a headmaster had been selected who was not like the previous ones. Up until then, the headmaster title was basically ceremonious; the academy was a royal institution and was directly controlled by the current monarch.

However, this headmaster had been something else. He had completely overhauled the way the academy was run, distancing the academy from the crown and empowering the teachers and headmaster, and created several traditions when he realized traditions were much harder to break than rules.

One of these traditions was that every time a new teacher was hired, or a new headmaster elected, that person should add a protective spell to the academy itself and one to the vault. In five hundred years, a significant amount of spells had accumulated. Most were alarm spells of some kind, but whilst sorting through them she had found no less than 347 spells that either seriously harmed an attacker or flat-out killed them. One in particular, the one cast by that headmaster, involved summoning his familiar to the location.

That might not sound so bad, but the man's familiar was a dragon, old already when it was summoned and bound, and now likely over 2000 years old. Naturally, it was not good to suddenly have a gigantic dragon appear whilst you were trying to rob a significant amount of precious artefacts and gems.

Matilda knew these spells better than anyone else, except possibly the headmaster. One never quite knew what was going on in his head. She had spent nearly all of her time at the academy adjusting the spells to not register her, and it had not been easy. However, the one spell she had been unable to crack was one as old as the academy itself.

When the academy was constructed the first king of Tristain, king Leopold the silent, appointed the most powerful mage in the country to be its first headmaster. This man, even though his identity has been lost in time, must have been extremely powerful. His contribution to the construction was a protection spell of extreme strength, which protected all of the academy from harm to a lesser degree and the most important areas, like the vault and the headmaster's office, completely. It was impossible to transfigure any matter affected by the spell.

And so, Matilda had decided to break through the wall instead of just walking in. It would be hard, but with a big enough golem she should be able to overpower the other protection spells through a concentrated physical shock.

In other words, a mega-punch.

However, she could not risk being seen whilst performing her heist. The academy was always watched at night by patrolling guards, so she had to break in during the day, when the students could see her.

That had seemed like an unsolvable problem, but then she thought of the familiar evaluation fair. Nearly everyone would be there, and everyone else would likely be either in their rooms, in the library or in town. And it just so happened that the fair was usually held on the other side of the Main tower. So she could just create a massive golem, perform the heist of her life, and settle down with the bounty, all possible because of the placement of a scene and some benches.

It was good to be a master thief.

 **Author's comments:**

 **Whew, now that's over. It might be a bit short, but believe me when I say I could not stretch it out any longer.**

 **Ah well, nothing to do about that now. Onwards, to the Easter eggs!**

 **There is one in this chapter, and it is very obvious. There is a certain line referencing a certain sketch made by a certain group of comedians. I want the specific line, and the name of the group it references.**

 **There is also one left from chapter one! Come on guys, it is not THAT obscure.**

 **It is about a certain scene that is very similar to a beloved piece of Warhammer Fanfiction. I'll give you a hint, it involves an Assassin specializing in sniping. I want the title of the fanfiction and the name of the Sniper.**

 **This has been unsolved for twelve chapters. Tell you what, I'll give you a hint: most of the people who have read the fanfiction will not call it a fanfiction, but a piece of Writefaggotry. No offence.**

 **And on that uplifting note, I will leave you to wait impatiently for your next fix.**

 **Ossa out!**


	13. Chapter 13: Fair Fighting (Literally)

**And so, the prophecy comes to fruition. Rotciv557 has, once again, been the first to answer the really easy Easter egg. I am seriously contemplating not letting him answer any more, but I will hold off on that for now.**

 **For those of you who have been living under a pile of rocks bigger than Fouquet's golems, the line "You never knew when to expect the Brimiric inquisition" is referencing Monty Python.**

 **Just a heads up: the next chapter will be a Q &A. if you have any questions, PM me.**

 **Now, I don't look forward to writing this chapter. I don't enjoy writing combat, and there has been a few nasty reviewers lately, so I might need some encouragement. I have 77 favourites by the time I write this, if you like my story then leave a review! PMing is fine too…**

 **Big thanks to the guys who have reviewed already. I might just give you some mentions in the next chapter…**

 **With that out of the way, let's get to it!**

 **Chapter thirteen: Fair play**

Professor Colbert watched the great mass of teachers and students attending the Familiar Evaluation Fair. For once, they sat side by side on benches, almost like equals. It was a somewhat strange sight to see the resident Wind magic teacher, professor Guiteau, who was known for his love of his element and his total dismissal of the other three happily chat away with Headmaster Osmond. They seemed to be betting on who would win, and Colbert couldn't say he was surprised.

He turned his gaze to the seat of honour, which was basically just a chair on stilts with a sunroof draped in the royal colours of Tristain. Princess Henrietta had arrived late last afternoon, quite unannounced, and so they had had to improvise. Still, she seemed content there, royal smile upon her face.

As he looked upon the stage, he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the students currently standing behind it. They had been forced to discover any hidden qualities their familiars might have, in a short amount of time, and then they would have had to decide a good way of showing these qualities off for the rest of the school. It could not have been easy.

He was, like every year, surprised at the creativity his students showed. Well, most of them. Tabitha had merely flown around for a bit, but he supposed that was okay seeing as she had indeed summoned a dragon. Kirche had made her salamander spit fire in complicated ways, Montmorency had her frog dance to violin music and most of the other students had equally impressed. Now, it seemed to be Louise's turn.

As Guiche walked down the stairs followed by both complete silence and his gigantic mole, Louise entered the stage. Princess Henrietta straightened up a bit, and looked on with kind eyes.

Louise had barely slept, she had been so worried. Ysmir seemed confident though, and that made her a slight bit calmer. Her familiar had so far proved to be very powerful, so if he felt confident there was a good chance he would succeed in bringing them both victory, or at least an acceptable rating.

They had spent nearly five hours yesterday, going over what he could and couldn't do as well as what he could do but was not allowed to. In the end, Ysmir had nodded and said something along the lines of " _Do not worry, I will impress them, one way or another."_

She had been too tired to care at that point.

Now, she stepped forward and faced the crowd before her.

"My name is Louise Francoise de la Vallière, and this is my familiar. He is called Ysmir, and I will leave the rest to him."

This way of introduction was chosen mainly because she had very little idea of what he was going to do. She might have told him what he couldn't do, but he had been adamant about choosing how to do it himself.

Ysmir stepped forward as Louise took a stride back, and looked out over the crowd through the eyeholes in his daedric helmet. A good number of them felt a chill travelling the length of their spine, and stared at his impressive form with a mix of fear, respect and anticipation. What would he do?

Ysmir swung off his backpack, and retrieved from it a strange contraption before closing it and throwing it to the side.

"For the trick I am about to perform, I will need a willing participant. Any volunteers?"

Silence followed his words. Dead silence.

Colbert felt slightly bad for his new friend, and stood up.

"I volunteer."

As Colbert made his way to the stage, the crowd whispered amongst themselves. Several words drifted up to Ysmir, among them _Brave, Madman_ and _Crazy._

Once Colbert stood beside him, Ysmir turned to him.

"Now, professor, would you kindly cast a small fireball toward the main tower?"

Colbert was a slight bit surprised, but chanted a few words and pointed with his staff. A sphere of flame, about two decimetres in diameter, formed from the head of the staff and started making its way towards the main tower, at a pace of about twenty paces every second.

Ysmir wasted no time, but lifted his contraption and placed a small projectile in it. As he took aim, the sun caught the weapon; it shone like gold. Without further ado, he fired his crossbow.

The crowd jumped back when the bolt flew above their head. Still, it was only a crossbow, if a strange one. At least they thought so, until the bolt struck the fireball.

A small explosion occurred, and it seemed the fireball was drenched in ice. A small puff of steam signalled the fireball had gone out, and the resulting ice shell fell to the ground, cracking.

Most were impressed, the weapon must have cost a fortune and the familiar wielding it had some steady aim to be able to hit a fireball in flight. That awe only increased as Ysmir preformed the trick four more times, but with three fireballs every time. No one noticed how he whispered before every shot.

" _ **TIID"**_

When he put down his crossbow, the crowd applauded. Quite a lot, too. As Colbert, Ysmir and Louise left the stage Old Osmond stood up.

"Well, then, I think I speak for all of us when I say that we have seen some truly amazing performances today. However, there can only be one winner. Thus, I ask her Highness Princess Henrietta to choose which spectacle impressed her the most."

Henrietta did not seem surprised, and donned a look of deep thought. After a few seconds, she raised her voice.

"I would say that anyone who can summon a dragon as a familiar deserves more praise than she received. Therefore, the winner is Tabitha de Norfatul!"

All applauded, including Louise. Whilst she had hoped to win, to perform as well as they had was more than enough. She turned to Ysmir, about to thank him for his good choice of performance.

He wasn't there. That was not good.

Slightly panicked, she scanned the surrounding area. Things would not go well if Ysmir was allowed to run wild. She could very well imagine him breaking down the door to the headmaster's office, just because he wanted to chat with Old Osmond, among other scenarios. She caught a glimpse of a man, clad in black armour, running around the corner of the archway in the middle of a walkway.

It was Ysmir alright, but what was he up to?

She checked if anyone was looking, found that most were concentrating at Tabitha, and sprinted after him.

 _Slightly earlier:_

Matilda, alias Fouquet the Crumbling Earth, faced the main tower clad in her usual thievery attire; an enchanted cloak which magically concealed her identity, a few pieces of enchanted jewellery, granting her a small, but sometimes lifesaving resistance to nearly all kinds of magic and her wand.

This was as it was supposed to be. She was alone, all of the others were on the other side of the school, and she was just about to rob them blind.

Now then, it was time to get down to business.

She kneeled, and felt the earth. She called out to it, and it answered. The ground rumbled, and a huge mound of dirt, rocks and the occasional patch of sand started moving. It formed itself into a figure, almost thirty meters high, sporting two big arms, good for punching, and the crude image of a face engraved on its upper chest.

Fouquet made sure to make the golem a puppet. She could have let it go rouge on the wall, but that would cause more noise than what she had in mind. She stepped into its leg, and let the dirt lift her up to the left shoulder of her creation.

She had always loved golems. Something about controlling a body many times bigger than your own was just so exhilarating. Even more so when she could feel the arm draw back for the punch that would secure her future. She could retire after this, perhaps buy back her aristocracy, and it was all thanks to a lecherous headmaster who was less likely to look at figure than at references.

It was good to be the best thief around.

 _Viewpoint change!_

Louise caught up to Ysmir as he stopped at the other side of the main tower form where the Fair was located. He was standing still, staring at the huge Golem in front of him.

Oh. There was a golem in front of him.

Why was there a golem in front of him?

Time seemed to freeze as Ysmir brandished his mace, smiling madly, and Louise crossed out possibilities in her head.

Could the teachers be planning some surprise? No, not likely. Madam Chevreuse was the only earth mage employed by the academy strong enough to perform a feat like this, and she had been speaking to Professor Colbert when Ysmir had left the fair.

Could it be a student? No, there was no one who could create a golem this big.

That left only one possibility, and it was not a nice one. As Ysmir looked to her, smiling wide and awaiting a reaction, she finally snapped out of whatever had caught her.

"SOMEONE IS ATTACKING THE ACADEMY!"

Ysmir answered, with badly hidden glee in his voice, almost trembling with anticipation.

"And that means we get to battle it, right?!"

"Yes! You attack the legs, I'll try to hit the person standing on the shoulder!"

Ysmir needed no more encouragement. He sprinted towards the left leg of the golem, and swung his mace at it just as the punch it had been building up connected with the wall.

The discharge of energy when the fist hit the wall was something to behold. An invisible force field stopped the punch, seemingly buckling under the pressure. Like rings created on the surface of a pond once you threw a pebble in, the force was distributed across the surface. Even so, there were a couple of hairline cracks in the field, right where the punch had landed.

Fouquet noticed the cracks, and was just about to draw back the fist once more when the golem fell to its knees. She looked down, frown on her face, to find Ysmir beating on the legs of the golem, smile wide on his face. He looked like a drug addict getting his fix, and that didn't bode well.

She had no time for these games. Concentrating all of her willpower, Fouquet regenerated her golem at an impressive rate. The legs were still being butchered by the strange attacker, but she had enough power for a second punch.

That was when the left arm of the golem exploded. Shards of stone flew everywhere, one piercing her enchanted cloak and causing a shallow wound in her left leg. Quite a distance away, a little girl jumped in glee.

"YES! It worked, I did it!"

Fouquet was just about to call off the heist. She could escape, come back as Longueville a few minutes later and pretend she had been busy cleaning up Old Osmond's office or something like that. But she was so close, and decided to risk it.

The punch flew, and struck the wall at the same place the first one had. This time, the thin cracks in the force field actually shattered.

Like a sheet of glass, the force field shattered, dissolving into the air. The golem fist crushed the academy wall, and Fouquet saw her chance. She ran, faster than she ever had, in through the hole in the wall, grabbed the item she had been looking for and dashed out. Her golem was taking a heavy beating, and explosions rained all around her, so she abandoned her golem, sunk into the earth and escaped.

On the surface, Louise walked up to her familiar. Ysmir was still smiling, but now he had a certain look in his eye, like a hungry animal.

In his hand, she noticed a stone shard, stained red.

 **Author's Comments:**

 **Wow, this chapter was not nice to me. I had to rewrite it twice, and I am still not that happy with it. Ah well, it will have to do. Now, on to the Easter eggs!**

 **There are none in this chapter, but there is still one from chapter one!**

 **It is about a certain scene that is very similar to a beloved piece of Warhammer Fanfiction. I'll give you a hint, it involves an Assassin specializing in sniping. I want the title of the fanfiction and the name of the Sniper.**

 **This has been unsolved for twelve chapters. Tell you what, I'll give you a hint: most of the people who have read the fanfiction will not call it a fanfiction, but a piece of Writefaggotry. No offence.**

 **Next chapter will be a Q &A. send me any questions you may have.**


	14. Chapter 14: Questions and Answers, again

**Greetings, my readers. It is I, Ossa, and I have heard your questions, few as they may be, and decided to answer them!**

 **Firstly, Plot questions:**

 **I have been getting a few negative reviews and PMs referring to the dragonborn having too little influence on the story so far. That might be true, but remember that even in the original the story does not really open up until the Albion assignment. Trust me, it should get farther from the canon.**

 **For those claiming the dragonborn to be overpowered: you are correct. He is. But really, after playing for a certain amount of time you all know how overpowered you get in Skyrim.**

 **I tried to balance it out by primarily making him a warrior, the weakest playstyle in my opinion, but remember that everything he has accomplished so far was also done by a Japanese teenager. (bar the Valkyrie Queen, but that's a small detail)**

 **Secondly, Character questions:**

 **I aim to make Louise a lot more powerful and useful than in the canon. Tabitha and Kirche will mainly learn tamrielic magic because they think it might give them a small edge, but Louise will really focus on it. As for why she didn't use her Flames spell in the Fouquet fight, Flames has quite a short range.**

 **Thirdly, Thanks:**

 **I want to thank each one of my readers, but a few stand out.**

 **Telron** **was the first one to review, and stuck with me for several chapters. Thank you, you inspired me to keep on writing. You will get a say about the next chapter!**

 **Ronnie R15** **was the first one to answer an Easter egg, albeit a really easy one. Thank you too.**

 **Several of the unnamed Guests have helped me, with information and ideas. Thank you guys, I really appreciate it.**

 **Vadam N7** **and** **Vatsyayana69** **both provided hope in the beginning, and helped me continue. Send them your love!**

 **Raganui** **and** **Ikana** **also gave me some encouragement when I needed it most. I am really thankful.**

 **Hrrrm…** **captaindickscratcher** **also provided me with some encouragement. NICE! Not so nice username though…**

 **Most of the others I have mentioned in the story.**

 **I also wanted to adress a small, but important part of writing. I know a lot of you have written stories of your own, and I know a lot of you have not. That's totally fine, but i received a Review today that I wanted to explain early. There are some who just write "This is not for me, so I'm leaving" which is only natural. Then, there's this guy.**

 **FractiousDay said, after reading this chapter:**

Skyrim's cool, so I read this, but it's really boring. You say his motivation for doing stuff is that he's been bored for ages... so he goes round chopping wood? Why isn't he adventuring across to see the elves? Or going to see a flying island? Has he seen a flying island before? I think not.

Just hanging about doing the canon stuff is ridiculous. He's such a push over as well. He's supposed to be an immortal warrior, not a menial servant.

Also, you're structure and writing style are obnoxious, there are better ways of telling the reader there's been a perspective change than "heads up"

 **Wow. That's a lot to take in. Constructive criticism is of course fine, and I've received it on multiple occasions, but this takes the metaphorical cake. Let's start from the top:**

 **Why is the Dragonborn not adventuring:**

 **I do hope you all play Skyrim the way I do. He is the Dragonborn. He has no problems putting a Main quest on hold in order to gather some bear pelts, or mine some ore. Also, he has not heard of the elves yet. Remember, he has only been in this world for four days.**

 **The Dragonborn is a push over:**

 **I play on legendary difficulty. I wanted to nerf him a little as well, as the story would not be nearly as fun (which i hope it is) if he just killed everything with one swing of his mace.**

 **You're writing style is obnoxious:**

 **First and foremost, *Your*. Secondly, this is my first story. I am writing in my second language (technically third, actually). I have chosen my writing style, and IT WILL NOT CHANGE BECAUSE SOME POSH ENGLISH IDIOT WANTS TO AFFECT MY WRITING. I ACKNOWLEDGE THAT YOU HAVE MADE THE DECISION TO DISLIKE MY WRITING STYLE, BUT GIVEN THAT IT IS IRRELEVANT I HAVE ELECTED TO IGNORE IT.**

 **Whoah, that felt good.**

 **The next chapter should be out in a few days. See you guys until then!**


	15. Chapter 15: Tracks, Trips and Traps

**Well well.**

 **I may or may not be slightly sorry for my outburst in the last part of the second Q &A. I just felt really offended when FractiousDay said my writing style was obnoxious. Really though, I'm very new to this. Criticise what happens in my stories if you want, that I can change, but my writing style is not something I will alter just like that.**

 **Addressing the people who were disappointed the last chapter was a Q &A:**

 **Thank you. Really, if you care this much about my story then all I have to offer you is a pat on the back and a statement to help ease your waiting: every seventh chapter will be a Q &A, unless otherwise stated. I like dealing with flamers, friends and everyone else out in the open.**

 **Addressing the people who think Ysmir has been too boring:**

 **Part of this chapter, and possibly the next one, will be from his perspective. We shall see how it goes, but it should improve his character a bit. So far, I admit he has been a bit boring, but I aim to remedy that.**

 **Addressing the people who think Ysmir should have accomplished more:**

 **You might be on to something here, but I think he should go about it like I did when I bought Skyrim: Follow the questlines, no matter where they lead him, lose track of what he is doing, pick up a lot of miscellaneous quests and subsequently put the main quest on hold in order to deliver some bear pelts to some lumberjack. Also, keep in mind that he has only been in this world for four days.**

 **HONORARY MENTION goes to** **Salvare** **who FINALLY figured out the illusive chapter one Easter egg! For details, see the answer review.**

 **Now, let us get to the FREAKING CHAPTER!**

Chapter fifteen: Tracks, Trips and Traps

Ysmir was happier than he had been in a long time. First he had been summoned to another universe, with new enemies to destroy and new allies to meet.

After that, he had gone on a good hunt with a new ally/friend/good person.

Then, he had gotten to teach, something he always enjoyed, for the first time in several years.

And now he was facing down a gigantic creature, which looked a lot like an Ash guardian with arms and legs, and he was kicking the crap out of it.

As he dodged another desperate sidestep, he laughed out. He was feeling quicker than ever, and his armour did now weigh him down in the slightest. His opponent might be bigger than anything he had ever fought, but he was still defeating it. Either he had received a major power boost from his familiar contract, or this universe had different properties than the one he had left. Either way, he had Louise to thank for this.

Just as he thought that, a soundwave threw him slightly off balance and sent his oh-so-sensitive ears into a panic. They concluded, after a few milliseconds of thought, that a massive explosion had occurred close by.

He looked up at the earth creature he was fighting. The left arm was gone.

He had heard from Louise about her inability to cast anything but explosions, but he never thought them so strong! He decided to continue with her lessons in magicka, but also help her refine this power. Anything that could deal that much damage was worth looking into.

He filed those thoughts away for later and focused on the golem. It was rearing back its right arm, preparing to strike the academy again. He saw no other way, and kept on beating on the legs. Unfortunately, the punch landed.

The wall broke, and a figure in a green cape with a hood used the golem's arm as a walkway as it ran in through the hole, grabbed something, and then turned back to the hole. Ysmir could see the figure, but it was like a blur lay upon the face, making it difficult to see. Even more so when the figure deemed it fit to jump out of the hole in the wall, at least twenty meters above the ground.

The figure whipped out a wand mid-air, and chanted a short word. A hole opened up in the ground, the figure landed in it and the ground closed.

The hulking mass of dirt, rock and sand Ysmir had been beating on slumped down, once again inanimate soil. Ysmir contemplated feeling disappointed that the fight had ended with his quarry getting away, but then a certain scent caught his nostrils.

He walked a few steps and picked up a sharp shard of stone, stained red.

The hunt was not over.

He wrapped the shard in a piece of leather and put it in his backpack.

Louise ran up to him, face showing a mix of slight disappointment and extreme happiness, with disappointment seemingly winning.

"The attacker got away. He stole something from the vault and he got away."

Ysmir shook his head, and was just about to explain how they would be able to catch the thief when a mass of people, led by the teachers, rounded a corner and saw the unpowered golem just below the massive hole in the academy wall. Old Osmond and Professor Colbert broke away from the group and walked up to Louise and Ysmir. Osmond raised his voice first, and used his staff to support his frail-looking body as he spoke.

"So, what happened? Why is there a golem here, and how come it managed to destroy the vault wall without being detected by the spells protecting it?"

As Louise explained the situation, Ysmir studied Old Osmond. He seemed to be the oldest teacher here, and judging from how both the students and the teachers looked at him he was a powerful figure. Thus he might very well be the Headmaster of this institution, a position equalling the Arch wizard at the college of Winterhold. That got him thinking of old memories, particularly of Savos Aren, the former arch mage of the Winterhold College before Tolfdir had to take his place in the wake of the Magnus Incident…

Ysmir was woken from his memories by the Headmaster.

"So, the thief managed to steal something. Could you see what it was?"

Ysmir did not need to think long.

"It was long and thin, like a spear, wrapped in a purple cloth. It also looked like he managed to grab a small bag, but I am not sure what it contained."

Osmond shook his head, suddenly worried.

"You two, come with me. That goes for you too, Jean. We need to inspect the remaining goods and strengthen the wall. If we're lucky, what was stolen is not dangerous. Also, where is my secretary?!"

 _Time skip and viewpoint change_

Matilda had been running for quite a while in her underground tunnel, making sure to seal it behind her. She decided to go up to the surface and see if she was safe yet, and she was not disappointed.

As she rose from beneath the ground, she found herself standing in the middle of a clearing in some forest. Oaks stood all around her, and the grass was long and showed no signs of having been trampled. In the middle of the clearing stood a shack, if you could call it that. A quick check inside confirmed no one had been there for several years. The dust lay thick as a carpet over nearly every object there, the walls showed signs of rot and the roof was only barely holding together.

It would serve excellently as a trap. Even more so as she placed the small bag of gemstones she had grabbed on the table, mostly to be used as bait later.

She retrieved the least rotten chair she could find from within the shack and sat down upon it just outside. It was time to take a look at her big price. She unwrapped the purple fabric surrounding it and nearly gasped. For being a weapon of annihilation able to take down a dragon, it was extremely beautiful. The Staff of Destruction was brown, like wood, but seemed to be made of something more like bone, decorated by arcane carvings. The pommel held a blue gemstone, but that was nothing when compared to the focusing gem at the top.

The spherical blue gemstone was suspended between several protrusions, seemingly weightless. It was almost four fingers thick, and emitted a certain glow reminiscent of the shine in the eye of a big reptile; seemingly dangerous and yet extremely intriguing. Matilda found herself just sitting there, looking at the object, until she noticed the time.

The sun was low in the sky. She had a few options.

She could make her way back to the academy, and pretend to have been in town or something equally innocent. It would work for her, but any competent mage could sense the extreme aura of the staff she had stolen, and she couldn't leave it here.

She could run away, but her willpower was almost depleted. She needed to sleep before she could create any more golems, and running from a problem towards unknown ground, only armed with a golem the size of a small goat seemed like a very bad idea.

She could also stay here, fortify the location and prepare for the retrieval team the headmaster would likely send. There was a crux with this plan as well: she had no food, or water, and she was just one mage. In an all-out siege, she couldn't compete.

Unless she used the Staff.

It was the obvious answer. If it was able to kill a dragon, it could surely defeat a mage or two.

She decided to go with that strategy.

That left a few issues: she still needed food and water, as well as a good trap for the retrieval team. After a bit of approximation and some calculations Matilda concluded that she had at least thirteen hours before the retrieval agents would locate her. Subtracting eight hours for sleep, and two in the morning the next day for trap construction, that left three hours in the evening to gather edible plants and locate a brook, or some other source of water.

She would be ready when they would come.

It was good to be a Master Thief.

 _Time skip and viewpoint change again!_

Ysmir had been slightly disappointed when none of the teachers had volunteered to join him and Louise on their new Quest. Still, when Tabitha and Kirche barged in through the door to the Headmaster's office and practically begged to join them he had felt proud.

They were his students, even if he hadn't had time to actually teach them anything yet, and they were volunteering for a dangerous mission to gather a powerful staff without any of their other teachers.

They reminded him of how he had been forced to handle the Magnus Incident.

And so, after a good night of sleep, which Ysmir had protested heavily against, three mages and a spellsword walked off into the distance. Ysmir was leading the group, and he stopped every few minutes to crouch, put his face close to the ground and smell the dirt. The trail was still strong, but he wanted to absolutely sure when they were getting near to their target. If the thief was wielding an extremely dangerous staff he did not want to risk the lives of his pupils.

The others followed behind him. Kirche had been complaining about her feet up until a few minutes ago, when she started to pay attention to Ysmir's strange routine. She bent down and whispered to Tabitha.

" _How come he is smelling the ground? He couldn't possibly be tracking the thief, right? Are dragons known for their sense of smell?"_

Tabitha answered without looking up, and with her normal, low voice.

" _Not just dragon. Human too. Perhaps more."_

As she said that, Ysmir suddenly stopped by the edge of a forest.

"The trail is very strong. Prepare yourselves."

And just as he finished his sentence, a spike fashioned from a solid piece of granite flew towards his unarmoured head.

 **Author's Comments: So… that was decent! Quite decent indeed, and certainly enough for a chapter when the fanfic is written by a procrastinator of my calibre.**

 **I am not as happy with the ending, but it will have to do. Now, on to the Easter eggs!**

 **There is one in this chapter:**

 **One phrase is said by Fouquet both here and in chapter twelve. I want the name of the movie it is referencing and the character who says something very similar.**

 **Now, I will leave you for this time. Next chapter should be out in a few days, likely before Saturday. Perhaps tomorrow. We shall see.**

 **Ossa out!**


	16. Chapter 16: Deception and Detection

**Greetings, mortals. It is I, Daedric prince of writing and procrastination…**

 **Nope, just kidding. It's me. Sorry about the time it took me to write this, but I was struck with twin super effective attacks. Oh, woe to me, for one was indeed a physics test!**

 **If anyone is wondering, I got an A. Love me some Physics, especially after a few days of studying. I was also snowed in for a whole day, which has not happened in ten years, and subsequently spent the entire day shovelling snow. Later, on Saturday, my dad fell ill and I had to spend a fair amount of time doing everything that needed to be done.**

 **But I am here now, and ready for action. Speaking of action, Easter eggs!**

 **Raganui, who is a Guest, was the first one to answer the Easter egg from the last chapter. The correct answer is History of the world part one, and the phrase is uttered by King Louis XVI.**

 **It's good to be the king!**

 **It's also good to be the writer, and so I shall write!**

Chapter sixteen: Deception and Detection

The spike flew toward the back of Ysmir's head, and then it stopped. Ysmir turned around, oblivious, to find the stone spike caught by an icicle protruding from the ground. Tabitha lowered her staff. Kirche was suitably impressed.

"Wow Tabitha, that was really quick! And without any chanting as well! That was battle magic, wasn't it?"

Tabitha nodded silently, and turned to the others.

"Might be more traps. Careful."

Ysmir, Louise and Kirche each gave an answer; Ysmir grunted affirmatively, Louise nodded grimly and Kirche gave a slightly nervous laugh.

Ysmir took the lead, with Tabitha right behind him. He had donned his helmet as well, and lent the strange shield to Kirche. Right before they went into the forest, though, he took Louise aside for some last minute training. They came back to the others a few minutes later, with Louise sporting a confident smile and Ysmir looking very proud.

As they made their way through the forest, Ysmir began to feel uneasy. The trail was still there, and stronger than ever, but after the first spike there had been no more traps. That might mean they simply hadn't triggered any more, but that was quite unlikely. More probable was the risk that their enemy was trying to lure them into some kind of trap, and so he trusted his ears and nose to lead him the right way and focused his sight on locating anything that could be a hidden device or rune meant to harm.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

This was almost as unnerving as his first visit to the Soul Cairn. Never knowing if an enemy was going to spring out of the ground behind him, and then not being all that sure of how he should dispatch of these enemies, was something he had hated right off the bat with the Soul Cairn. Now was not the time to reminisce over past adventures, though.

He focused on the present, and picked up a vague sound coming from a clearing almost fifty meters north of their current position. There was no way a normal human could have heard it, but he was far from normal. It sounded like someone was struggling against ropes. A prisoner perhaps? The thief might have taken a hostage…

After stopping the group and explaining his theory of a hostage situation, Tabitha and Ysmir thought up a strategy which relied heavily on stealth and surprise. Ysmir would approach the clearing from the south, and focus on taking out the target. Tabitha would approach from the west, and back Ysmir up. Kirche and Louise would circle the clearing and approach from the north, with the main objective of freeing any hostages.

The strategy was approved of and executed.

Tabitha wove the wind around herself to create a barrier of silence, and made way to the small shack standing in the middle of the clearing. She could see Ysmir on her right, also silently walking to the cottage. Louise and Kirche were supposed to wait until the enemy revealed themselves before they approached. Once Tabitha and Ysmir united in front of the small cabin, Ysmir opened the door as quietly as possible.

Inside, sitting on a chair, gagged and bound to it was the Headmaster's secretary, Miss Longueville. There was no sign of any enemies, and so Tabitha was just about to untie the hostage when Ysmir stopped her, all the while sniffing into the air.

Longueville watched, eyes pleading with them to release her.

 _Viewpoint change!_

Matilda had spent way too much time gathering food and resting, and so she improvised a new strategy. By now someone would have noticed her disappearance, and perhaps she could turn that to an advantage.

She made very few traps, just to keep up the façade, and created a golem the size of a small child with much finer motor functions than she usually bothered with. After looking for, and finding, a length of robe she ordered the golem to tie her to a chair and use one of her long gloves as a gag. When she was found, she was most likely going to get passed off as a hostage or prisoner, with the real thief stalking the woods. Thus the retrieval team would let their guard down, and she could dispose of them easily.

It had gone pretty well, up until the part where they actually entered the cottage.

Two people stood there; Tabitha de Norfatul, who was one of the best students the academy had seen the last decade, and the familiar who had defeated the Gramont boy. Seeing as the familiar was here, Louise Vallière would not be far away. Curious. Why would old Osmond send some students to retrieve the Staff of Destruction?

She had done her best to look helpless, and it seemed to work for Tabitha. The young girl reached out to untie her, when she was stopped by that familiar. He sniffed in the air, and then clocked her on the top of the head without any warning whatsoever.

The last thing she thought before darkness overtook her mind was a desperate question.

 _How did he find out?!_

 _Viewpoint change again!_

Louise and Kirche were contemplating whether or not to approach the cabin even though they hadn't heard any signs of fighting, save for a heavy reverberating clang. As it was quite boring in the woods, they made their way to the shack. Once there, they found the headmaster's secretary, bound, gagged and out cold. Ysmir stood right next to her, examining a wound in her leg. He then stood up, and turned to the others.

"Well, here we have our thief. It seems she had something with very dirty hands, most likely a golem, tie her up so she could fool us into thinking her an innocent."

Tabitha, having encountered many worse tricks, accepted this first.

"Staff. Where?"

Whilst Louise and Kirche were standing shocked in the doorway, Ysmir and Tabitha searched the cabin. The staff was nowhere to be found.

"She might have hidden it. I don't think I can track it, so we'll have to wake her up and ask her."

Tabitha approved, but created a few large icicles to envelop the lower part of the thief and keep her from escaping. Kirche and Louise snapped out of their stupor and took position, wands ready, behind the others.

Ysmir flexed his hand and called forth an amber orb, which he extended towards the thief. The shallow gash in her leg quickly healed, and her stamina was restored. He had used this trick on himself many times to stay awake, before he lost the need to sleep.

Longueville, if that was her real name, stirred and woke up. She stared at the four attackers with a glint of fear in her eyes, but that was quickly abandoned as Tabitha removed her gag.

"So, I take it you've figured out I was the one to steal the Staff of Destruction. And now you want to know where it is?"

Tabitha was the only one not taken aback by the thief's cold and unfeeling voice, and the first one to answer.

"Yes. Where?"

Matilda nearly let out a laugh. It would not be that simple. Or perhaps it should be? If she was caught, she could look forward to a long prison sentence and the amputation of her wand hand. But if she could trick them, or simply escape…

"Even if I told you, you wouldn't be able to find it. It is well hidden, and can only be found by me. Kill me if you want to, you'll never find it then."

Tabitha turned to Kirche, who nodded. The woman was serious, and was not lying. That was bad. What did they have to offer a thief who had stolen more than any other? Well, obviously, freedom. Louise spoke up.

"We seem to be at an impasse then. You want to be free, and able to keep the staff for your own needs. We need to get the staff back, and preferably throw you in the royal dungeon. I think we can… meet midway."

Matilda listened intently. This might be her shot at freedom.

"You will give us the staff. We let you go. We will tell the Headmaster you escaped, but he will likely be so happy to get the staff back that he won't care about an escaped thief. Do you approve?"

Matilda nodded, and motioned to her bonds.

"Get them off of me, and I will get the staff."

Tabitha called back her icicles, and Ysmir freed the thief from the ropes whilst giving Louise a I-hope-you-know-what-you-are-doing look. Matilda arose, stretched her sore arms and rubbed her head, and motioned for the others to get away from the door.

Once she was let out, she kneeled right in front of the cabin. Whilst she was mumbling ancient words to call the staff up from its current resting place, she also managed to fit in the words to summon a small golem. Well, small for her. It would be about ten meters tall when she was finished with it. Just a small precaution, if they wouldn't let her go as they promised.

The ground shook, and seemingly changed consistency to something akin to fluid where Fouquet held out her wand. A large, oval boulder began making its way to the surface, and once there it floated up to about a meter off of the ground, where it hovered for a short time.

Fouquet stood up, and lightly tapped the top of the boulder with her wand. A hairline crack appeared in the middle, and the two halves levitated apart to present the Staff of Destruction. It was beautiful, and everyone found themselves staring at the object, one with more surprise than the others. Ysmir quickly wrapped some cloth around it, and the spell it had seemed to put on everyone was broken.

Fouquet wasted no time, and summoned her golem. Riding on its shoulder, she made her way west, to Germania and the deep forests the country was known for. She could hide out there for a long time, and prepare for her next hit.

Meanwhile, Ysmir and the others made their way back to the academy. Ysmir was mumbling to himself for a substantial part of the journey. A good eavesdropper would have heard many things, but one phrase in particular was repeated once every few minutes.

"How did the Staff of Magnus end up here?"

 **Author's comments: I know, I know, it's a bit short and dragged out, but I felt I had kept you guys waiting for far too long and so I decided on keeping the chapter as it is. There are no real Easter eggs in this chapter, but well a challenge:**

 **The segment where the Staff of Magnus is retrieved from the earth is very similar to a scene in Skyrim. Where does this occur, what valuable object is retrieved and what is the name of the character(s) you retrieve it for?**

 **Until we meet again…**


	17. Chapter 17: Backstory and more Blackmail

**Well well, wouldn't you know, it's my favourite drinking buddy! Let's get some mead!**

 **Only I am not your drinking buddy, mead is hard to come by (unless you make your own, which is surprisingly simple) and I should get on with the story.**

 **Hello friends and foes, it is I, Ossa. Sadly I must report that no one has managed to beat the challenge I left for you in chapter sixteen. Ah well, ten** **days might be too short of a thinking time for you.**

 **With my badly hidden insults out of the way, let's get started!**

Chapter seventeen: Backstory and more Blackmail

It was nearly twilight when the small party finally arrived back at the academy with their prize. After a painfully long walk up a spiral staircase, Louise knocked on the door to the Headmaster's office.

The door flew up dramatically, which might have left more of an impression if the office hadn't been nearly empty; only Professor Colbert and the Headmaster himself were currently there. All of the other teachers had, unbeknownst to Ysmir and the rest, returned to their daily routine. You would think that the theft of an artefact possessing extreme power would have rocked the boat a little, but it seemed they were content letting the students figure that out.

Whatever the case, Louise approached the Headmaster's desk, the others in tow. With the expression of someone who has done something great, but is not quite sure if it is good yet, she gently placed an object on the desk, wrapped in purple cloth.

Old Osmond was about to take the item when Ysmir stopped him.

"We retrieved the staff, old man, but I want to know how you came into possession of it. I have seen it before I came here."

Everyone else stared at the dragonborn, each for their own reason. Louise was baffled by his attitude to the headmaster, Tabitha was interested in the staff, Kirche wondered where he had seen such a powerful artefact before, Colbert wondered if perhaps the staff and the familiar shared an origin and Headmaster Osmond donned an unreadable expression, before he raised his aged voice.

"You have seen it before, you say? It is not at all impossible, looking back on the strange occurrences that preceded its coming into my hands. I suppose I should start from the beginning."

Everyone else could hear that this was going to be a long tale, and Tabitha levitated forth a few chairs that had been standing in a corner. As everyone sat down, Osmond continued.

"Many decades ago, when I was younger and even more handsome, I was travelling across the northern parts of Germania seeking knowledge from the few shamans who still wandered the area. I happened to come across a dragon, which proved quite… aggressive. I was losing the battle, and coming to terms with my imminent demise as the dragon lunged towards me."

The audience were quite surprised that the old man before them had actually battled a wild dragon in his lifetime. Ysmir wondered when and how the Dovah had come to this land, but that question would have to wait. Perhaps it would be integral to a questline further on?

"Then, out of nowhere a battlecry sounded, and both the dragon and I looked in its direction to find a man dressed in a strange, frilly and hooded robe, pointing a staff at the dragon. Without any incantation a continuous bolt of lightning surged out of the staff, and it seemed to severely weaken the dragon. Sadly, I could do little to help him, since my staff had been knocked several meters away. With its last ounce of strength, the dragon managed to kill my saviour."

Both Ysmir and Osmond looked saddened by this; Osmond because he couldn't save the stranger and Ysmir because the trail would likely end here.

"I managed to recover his body and staff, and I called in a favour from the king to have him buried in the royal honour cemetery, which is reserved for heroes of Tristain. I kept his staff though, and locked it in the vault to serve as a last resort if I ever needed to defend the academy."

Ysmir was the first to raise his voice after the tale.

"So, what did he look like?"

Osmond and the others were slightly surprised by the choice of question, but the headmaster answered.

"He was tall, very tall. His hair was maroon in colour, and he had a small scar on his brow. Come to think of it, he had lots of scars. His hands were not covered by his robe, and they showed several signs of damage. The robe showed signs of having been sliced several times and later repaired, and his boots were worn. He also had a short beard, tied into a knot."

The dragonborn thought for a moment, but could not think of anyone who fit that description. This was infuriating, but he kept his cool throughout the rest of the conversation, which included an invitation to some banquet and an official compliment from the palace. Once that was over with, the four left the Headmaster alone with Professor Colbert.

The headmaster sighed, with his eyes fixed on the staff lying on his desk.

"Well Jean, it seems our security has been compromised. The academy was attacked, if only by a thief, and we have lost a member of staff. I would think we need to be better prepared to handle such a threat. Do you agree?"

Colbert nodded, not quite sure what the old man was getting at.

"Then, I think we need to start using the various weapons and resources we have kept in the vault. It makes little sense to lock away what could save your life."

The headmaster stood up, and lifted the staff of Destruction from his desk.

"You have been a trustworthy teacher here for nearly a decade now. I think it is time you get a promotion. I hereby decree you, Jean Colbert, the official Defender of this academy, and the staff of Destruction your badge of office."

The headmaster handed over the staff, and Colbert took it in a daze.

"I thank you, but please, I don't want to…"

The headmaster guessed his next words.

"…Hurt anyone? I know, Jean, and you don't have to. I actually tested the staff once I got back here from the burial of my saviour: when used on a mage, it will first deplete them of their energy, before starting to steal away their life. You can use it to simply render enemy mages unconscious, without harming them."

Colbert was relieved, and accepted with a shaky voice. He was to protect the academy and its students, and he decided right then and there to do a damn good job. The headmaster looked off at the door leading out of his chambers.

"I wonder where that familiar is from. He seems to know a lot about many things…"

Colbert realized he had forgotten his mental notes again, and with the speed of a commoner running from an enraged manticore he explained his theories on Ysmir, his strange magic and his origin.

 _Heh, did you think I was going to write more dialogue? Nope. Viewpoint change!_

Princess Henrietta, Crown Princess of Tristain and de facto ruler of the country was currently walking down a hallway in her castle whilst simultaneously arguing with the Cardinal who was officially ruling it for her. Cardinal Mazarin followed behind her, having trouble keeping up in his advanced age. The current topic was one they had discussed many times before, and Henrietta had become sufficiently angry to smash one of the vases decorating the hallway.

The cardinal tried to stop her as she picked the decoration up and threw it downwards, but he was no longer as spry as he used to be. The vase shattered into hundreds of pieces, and Henrietta turned to him with cold anger in her voice.

"You have told me many times, and I have answered you the same; I will not marry that pig of an emperor!"

Mazarin was seemingly unaffected by her tone, quite used to dealing with her anger, even if it rarely showed up.

"I know what you want, princess, but we don't really have a choice. The Reconquista are beating the Tudors down, and our latest reports indicate they have been fraternizing with Gallia! We need a powerful military, and the best way of getting one is by marrying into the germanian royalty!"

Henrietta was about to answer, when cold realization struck her. She turned slowly away from the Cardinal.

"You said the Tudors are losing? How badly? How much time is there to, say, launch a covert operation into Albion to retrieve politically important documents?"

Mazarin froze, and realized what the princess had just said. Perhaps the rumours about her and prince Wales had been true, despite their state as cousins. A quick glance at the princess' visage revealed everything he needed to know, and he spoke up.

"I will organize a squad to retrieve the documents."

Henrietta spun around to object.

"No, we need to keep this small. Three or four people, travelling in the shadows and retrieving the letters stealthily. And we need to be able to trust them explicitly."

Mazarin drew attention to a well-known problem which complicated the selection.

"But what about spies? Nearly anyone from our army can be either a spy or a Reconquista sympathiser!"

"Then we need someone who is not from the army, backed up by a trusted officer. I think I know of two…"

 _Haha, I am really switching viewpoints today!_

In a small roadside tavern on the border to Germania, Fouquet sat and nursed a tankard of dark ale. She preferred wine, with its sweeter taste and lesser bitterness, but a stranger ordering wine in a roadside pub late at night dressed in a dark green cape complete with hood would have seemed much to suspicious.

She was waiting for a message from her new contractors, who apparently had been able to seek her out within hours of her crossing into Germania. She had received a small payment with the message to appear in the tavern she was currently sitting in. The contractor was late, and that didn't bode well. She was just about to leave when a woman sat down across from her. She was wearing typical farmer attire, but anyone with a pair of good eyes could tell she was not used to the clothes. Her contact, plain and simple. The woman spoke, but with a low voice, and the tone cemented her as someone who ordered many people around on a regular basis.

"So, you are the famous Fouquet… you don't look like much, but then again, that is part of many thieves' strategies. I am here to buy your… services. Interested?"

Strictly business. Good, that was how she liked it.

"Perhaps. What do you need me to do and what will you give me to do it?"

The woman let a smirk through her badly sculpted façade. This was going well.

"In a few days' time, Tristain will send a mission to Albion, in order to retrieve some very important documents that could well decide the future of Halkeginia. I want them to fail."

"Easy enough. How about the payment?"

The smirk grew wider, and when the woman spoke her voice was cold as ice.

"Shall we say… the safety of a certain half-elf and the children she takes care of? Surely you wish to protect your half-sister, Matilda?"

 **Author's comments:**

 **Well, that was actually pretty good. Took a long time, but I feel it was worth it. However, there is an easter egg in this chapter:**

 **During the Henrietta segment we are shown a certain action very reminiscent of another royal lady from another semi-fictional world, this time a world where you might find Asterix and Obelix. I want the name of the character, and the reason she performs the action.**

 **We also have the challenge from last time left unbeaten:**

 **The segment in chapter sixteen where the Staff of Magnus is retrieved from the earth is very similar to a scene in Skyrim. Where does this occur, what valuable object is retrieved and what is the name of the character(s) you retrieve it for?**

 **See you guys later!**


	18. Chapter 18: Engaging an Enemy

**In the vast sea of fanfictions, one might search for days, months or even years to find one fitting their criteria, and even then the author might have decided to end it before it even took off.**

 **Luckily for you, I am not that author.**

 **At least not yet.**

 **Hello guys, gals and all in between (that's ok, right? No one offended?) it is I, Ossa, and we actually have a honorary mention for a change!**

 **Noir Detective** **was the first one to answer the Easter egg from last chapter: the correct answer is Cleopatra, who throws a vase to the ground because she is very angry with Caesar.**

 **With that out of the way, let me conjure up my writing skills and bring you the next chapter. I can already tell, writing Wardes is going to be a pain in the buttocks… if this chapter is delayed, I blame him.**

Chapter eighteen: Engaging an Enemy (literally!)

Louise opened the window to let the messenger bird out when Ysmir entered the room, happy as always. He was just about to tell Louise of how he had helped Professor Colbert train with the staff, and in return received one of the good professor's new experiments, when he spotted the thick envelope Louise was holding.

Louise followed he familiar's gaze to the object in her hand, and raised her voice.

"It's from the palace. We are being summoned to the court, right now. Apparently my teachers have been informed already, and we are to leave for Tristania immediately."

Ysmir gave a questioning glance.

"Have we done anything that might have offended the Palace? Where is Tristania located? Is it the capital?"

Louise shrugged to the first question, and answered the other ones.

"Tristania is indeed the Capital, and it is located in the northwest of the country. If we ride now, we will be there this afternoon. Sometimes, it is good to live in a small country."

Ysmir nodded in understanding. Travelling across Tamriel could take weeks or even months, and even riding from one end of Skyrim to the other would take at least five days. Still, he was getting quite exited. A new mission perhaps, from the palace… this was quickly turning into the best questline he had ever followed.

"So, what should we bring? Does the letter say anything about that?"

Louise shook her head. The letter had been very short, and strangely enough it called specifically for Ysmir by name. Seeing as only one member of the royal family had actually seen her familiar, it was quite clear that the princess was behind this.

Ysmir did not really care about who sent it, he was just happy to get to see the biggest city in Tristain. Perhaps he could acquire some new armour there, or maybe a new sword?

 _Viewpoint change, and Time skip!_

Viscount Jean-Jacques Francis Wardes, captain of the griffin knights and secretly a major agent for the Reconquista was on his way to the throne room in the royal palace. He knew they couldn't possibly have uncovered his treason, but he was curious of what he was being summoned for. The last time this had happened, he had received a promotion due to the unfortunate death of his former superior.

Luckily, back then no one had put forth any theories of how mages proficient with lightning, such as himself, could perceivably fabricate a heart attack in a perfectly healthy man. He had accidentally discovered the technique and finesse required to perform such a feat when he was trying to find a way to kill animals with lightning without singing the fur, and it had served him well to this day.

As he rounded a corner in the maze of corridors and rooms that was the royal palace, he found himself staring into a wall off black and red metal. After a moment, his legendary perception identified the wall as roughly the shape of a suit of armour, and he looked up to see a red-haired, gigantic man with a scruffy beard, looking slightly distressed. The man spoke, and Wardes could feel the air around him tremble. If he didn't know better, he would say that the man was a wind mage manipulating the flow of air to strengthen his voice. No wind mage of that calibre would wear armour though, since they would easily be able to repel any attackers with sheets of compressed air.

"Finally, I meet someone! Excuse me, but where can I find the throne room?"

Wardes was disciplined enough to simply motion to the man to follow him, without thinking about why he, too would be needed in the throne room. After nearly a minute of walking the two men finally came upon the door to the throne room, and the armoured man let out a sigh of relief. Wardes was just about to knock when the man just opened the door and stomped in. Had he no class? No decency? Of course not, this was quite obviously a commoner.

Wardes' reflection over the man was cut short as they both approached the princess, who was sitting on the throne normally reserved for her mother. He was high enough in the ranks to have talked to the princess on multiple occasions, and thus he knew she found that throne to be much more comfortable than her official regent throne which was situated to the right.

Before the princess stood a young woman, and he could have recognized that hair and figure everywhere. His fiancé, Louise of the Vallière family. He wondered why she was here, along with that strange man who was now standing right behind her. Well, he would know shortly.

Why she was here was not important. As long as she did not jeopardize his mission she could be here to break off their engagement for all he cared. The mission was what mattered, and if she got in the way she would be disposed of.

All hail Reconquista.

 _Time skip and Viewpoint change!_

As Ysmir lay got ready for bed in the inn they were staying the night in, he thought back to the assignment they had been given earlier that day. The princess had explained everything quite clearly, at least by the standards he was used to. She needed them to go to an area called Albion, retrieve some letters from her to the prince there, Wales Tudor. There were of course some obstacles; there was a civil war going on in Albion, and if the revolutionaries found the letters they could use them to start an intercontinental war.

So far, so good. A stealth mission, on foreign ground, surrounded by the enemy. It quite reminded him of the Fort Kastav rescue mission he had performed whilst he was still a Tribune in the Imperial legion, when he had earned his place as Legate and later General.

There was one key difference to any other stealth mission he had performed, though. That difference was personified in the well-dressed man with long, silver hair and a well-kept beard standing beside them. The Princess had called him Captain Wardes, so he was likely a semi-high level military leader. Ysmir felt conflicted about the man; Louise held him in high regard, and had introduced him as her fiancé. That fact was one reason he had difficulties accepting the man, as he thought his summoner to be much too young for marriage, especially when the age difference was so obvious.

The other reason was more sinister. The man had cold eyes even when smiling, and gave off a certain air of uncaring efficiency Ysmir had only felt a handful of times before. Given that one of them had been former Thieves Guild leader Mercer Frey, and every single one had later betrayed him, he maintained a large amount of secrecy and care when addressing Wardes.

You could never be too sure, after all.

After verifying that Wardes was indeed sleeping in his room by a quick Aura Whisper, Ysmir retired for the day and drifted off into old memories. He could have stayed awake, of course, but he needed to maintain his current façade to the possible traitor. Who knew, perhaps he too could see through walls.

 _Time skip!_

Louise woke up the next morning to loud knocks on her door. She hurriedly getting dressed in her travel outfit, which consisted of a green cloak, a white shirt and, surprisingly, a pair of pants. A quick feel told her that she had been correct in her assumptions regarding their weight; it seemed both the cloak and the pants had chainmail hidden in between two layers of fabric and some padding. Useful, but heavy.

When she opened the door she found Ysmir there, excited as usual. To his right stood Wardes, her fiancé, and he wore the look of a man who realized he had made a terrible mistake. Ysmir spoke, and it was with true glee.

"Louise, your fiancé challenged me to a sparring match! Do you approve? Would you like to spar, too?"

Wardes interjected, with a worried look.

"I am quite sure the lady wouldn't enjoy battling grown men such as ourselves. But, I did ask him to spar with me. Would you allow it, my dear? I need to know if he truly is worthy of the position of familiar."

Louise was about to retort, saying she could definitely take at least one of them on, but stopped herself. Why waste time fighting her fiancé, when Ysmir would gladly serve as the perfect punisher for belittling her? Besides, she had never actually seen her future husband fight, and knowledge was power, even if she was going to be permanently allied with him in the end.

"That is fine. I suggest you move to the back yard of the inn, since we may attract too much unwanted attention if too many commoners see you. Keep it as low-key as possible."

After agreeing to the terms Ysmir and Wardes both went out to the back yard, which was surrounded by the quite sizable inn on three sides and the forest on the forth. After situating herself in a window overlooking the two brawlers, Louise dropped a handkerchief as a start sign.

Wardes wasted no time. As neither one of them could use deadly force, he felt he had the advantage. It was much easier to temporarily render a foe disabled with magic than with a weapon, especially when using electrical attacks. He could simply adjust some simple chants, or concentrate on matching Ysmir's natural pulse, in order to win with only a single attack. However, he wanted to see what the man before him could do, and thus he instead opted for a cloak of sparks to shock his attacker.

Ysmir, and the other hand, brandished his mace and his strange shield. He had seen cloaking spells before, and thus he knew they rarely lasted long. So, he circled around the captain and waited for the right opportunity. There was only one question.

How much of his strength should he use in order to take the good captain down a few dozen pegs?

 **Author's comments:**

 **That turned out okay. Not great, like last chapter, but okay. I must say, I really hate writing Wardes. We get to see so little of him during his short run, especially since I have not read the light novels, where I have heard he features slightly more prominently. Anyways, let us get to the Easter eggs!**

 **There is one left from chapter sixteen:**

 **The segment in chapter sixteen where the Staff of Magnus is retrieved from the earth is very similar to a scene in Skyrim. Where does this occur, what valuable object is retrieved and what is the name of the character(s) you retrieve it for?**

 **There is also one in this chapter:**

 **A certain well-known quote is mentioned in the latter half of the chapter. The man who said it originally (at least according to legend) is hailed as the father of modern science. I want the original quote, the name of the man who said it and his impact on the sciences.**

 **That should have you busy for a few hours, people who beat my challenges extremely quickly. (*Cough* Rotciv557 *cough*)**

 **Ossa out!**


	19. Chapter 19: Ships and Giggles

**Greetings, oh ye of great patience. It is I, Ossa, King of commas and Lord of Lurking, and I have returned to continue my story.**

 **But first, an HONORARY MENTION:**

 **Prototron MJ Tornada** **was the only one to remember where the staff retrieval scene is from: the correct answer is the Elder Scroll (dragon) which you get for Paarthurnax, Septimus or Harkon, depending on the questline you are following.**

 **With that out of the way, let us get to the fight. Ten septims on the big one!**

Chapter nineteen: Ships and Giggles (not in that order)

Ysmir circled around his foe, looking for a weak spot in the lightning cloak as well as tiring the mage sustaining it. Cloak spells, at least those he was familiar with, required more control and focus than any other type of destruction spell. Thus, they rarely lasted long. Pure mages rarely used them, as they only provided help once the target was within arm's reach, when the typical mage was already out of luck. Spellswords and other warriors who dabbled in magic were much more likely to know at least one cloak spell, but the high magicka cost meant even they rarely used them.

One could classify them as exceptional procrastination spells, seeing as they usually resulted in the opponent waiting around until the spell ran out. This gave the mage time to heal, prepare some lengthy ritual or simply reposition themselves. Strangely, Captain Wardes did not perform any of these actions, leading Ysmir to believe the good captain was observing him, likely with the intent of finding out what abilities the Dragonborn possessed.

Sinister, intelligent and cunning. He reminded Ysmir of Mercer Frey. The former leader of the Thieves guild had been very good with deception, but ruthless in his pursuit if power and wealth. It was quite unsettling, how similar their mannerisms and body language were. Ysmir decided on using a tactic he had learned far in the past from a former mercenary. Never show your true strength to someone who is likely to betray you.

Wardes watched the familiar as he stopped his circling about fifteen paces away, squared his shoulders and lowered his head. Easy, he was going to try a shield charge. Wardes chanted a few words quickly, and prepared his willpower as Ysmir lifted his shield and held it in front of him. A small tornado blast would knock him off his feet when he got closer.

Ysmir had a small ace in his boot, though. As he raised the shield, a field akin to a thin sheet of fluid emanated from the shield's center. Wardes saw it, but had no time to take any action as Ysmir sprinted towards him with near inhuman speed.

The tornado blast Wardes had set up fizzled and died when it came into contact with the strange field. It managed to briefly stagger his opponent though, so Wardes used the time wisely and dashed out of the way with a small wind magic boost.

 _So, he can nullify simple spells… this might be more interesting than I thought_ , Wardes mused and directed a strong lightning bolt towards Ysmir. Once again, the strange field disintegrated the spell, but it seemed to disperse into the air afterwards. Good to know, the field couldn't take a lot of punishment…

Ysmir recovered quickly from the attack, and turned to his opponent. He nearly ended the duel right then and there with a well-placed Whirlwind sprint, but followed his own advice and held his true powers back. Instead, he once again rushed toward the captain with the speed and strength of an angry bull.

Wardes did not see the spell-shielding field from before, and thus prepared a counterattack which would trigger when Ysmir got close. Nothing that would kill him, but definitely enough to knock him off his feet. His plans were foiled, however, as Ysmir quickly transformed his bullrush into a flying tackle. He leapt at Wardes, who made the mistake of underestimating the Dragonborn. He simply diverted more power to his prepared counterattack, hoping it would divert the tackle and launch the familiar away.

Ysmir, wearing nothing but undergarments, consisted of nearly one hundred and ninety kilos of bone and muscle. His daedric armour weighed roughly ninety kilos. A two hundred and eighty kilo projectile flew through the air at high speed, barely slowed by Wardes' countermeasures. Wardes did not have time to think properly before the colossus slammed into his chest, breaking four of his ribs and knocking him unconscious.

 _Time skip!_

Wardes awoke with a horrible headache and the worst chest pains he had experienced since he in his youth insulted his father, who had proceeded to pour a small vial of manticore venom on his bedsheets. The venom resulted in swelling, partial and temporary paralysis and horrific pain, which rendered the young man much more docile against his father… until he poisoned him in his sleep. This time he recognized the chest pains as broken ribs, and recalled how the brute of a familiar had slammed into him. That same brute now stood beside the bed, and held forth a bottle to Wardes. Still quite dazed from his headache, he took the bottle, popped the cork and gulped down its contents.

The liquid inside smelt of mushrooms and mouldy bread, but surprisingly tasted a lot like the tart lingonberries the queen enjoyed. He had only eaten the small, red berries a few times, usually when invited to a royal banquet, but he had heard that the head cook had them imported from far in the north just to give the queen something to distract her from grieving.

He was cut off from his reminiscing over the taste of the potion by the feeling of his bones locking back into their proper shape. It should have been painful, but he guessed the potion contained some rapid acting anaesthesia since he felt nothing but warmth. Yellow light surrounded his body and within a few moments he was sitting up, feeling perfectly normal. After reluctantly giving some praise to Ysmir and Louise (to the former for his skill, and to the latter for having summoned the former) the three packed up their belongings and headed out. They were heading to some small port town a few hours away, and Wardes made sure to keep a few paces between Ysmir and himself at all times.

He had been defeated once, but learned from it. The knowledge would serve him well if he had to battle Ysmir again. _When_ he had to battle him again.

 _Viewpoint change and Time skip!_

Ysmir and Louise were having a small lesson on the way to the city where they would buy passage on board an airship to Albion. Since Wardes was there, they couldn't practise any magic, and thus Ysmir switched over to something more theoretical. He called it the Mindset of the Fighter, and Louise found it both interesting and complicated.

"There are two kinds of power. There is the power you receive from others, and the power you earn for yourself. Could you give me an example of the first kind?"

Louise thought this over, and simultaneously wondered how this qualified as fighting.

"Well, I suppose the power the Princess wields is given to her from others, in this case all of her subjects in general and the nobility especially. Am I correct?"

Ysmir nodded, and continued.

"Yes. And this sort of power should not be under- or overestimated. It is very useful, that is true, but you depend on others to exert it. This means that you can lose the power as quickly as you get it."

Louise felt a few wrinkles form on her brow and forehead. What her familiar said sounded true, but it was strange to look at things that way. To throw him a little off balance, she retaliated.

"And what about the other kind of power? Could you explain that to me?"

Ysmir did not seem to mind, and answered calmly.

"Earned power is not always stronger than given power, but it is much truer. Imagine for example that you have spent several years learning how to build beautiful chairs. No matter how angry your peers get at you, and no matter how much power you are stripped of, you will still always have the power to build those chairs."

Ysmir paused for a moment to see if Louise was getting it. She nodded, and he continued.

"By this logic, earned power will always stay with you, but may be weaker than given power. If you had to choose between one of them, which type of power would you like?"

Louise was about to answer, when Wardes called out. Both of them walked forth until they were standing next to him. Ysmir drew a deep breath and Louise looked a bit taken aback, as the city of La Rochelle filled the rocky valley before them. It reminded Ysmir of Markarth, in how there were no houses in the traditional sense. Doors, windows and balconies all jutted out of the cliff face, with the exception of a tower standing in the middle of the gorge. The tower was constructed of four tall wooden pillars, and a ladder on its side provided a way up to the top, where a platform in the likeness of a dock could be seen. Affixed to a pole on the platform by a long and quite think rope lay an airship.

Ysmir, who had never seen an airship before, was taken aback at the sight of the structure. It looked nothing like the images of tamrielic airships he had seen, with the structure of a longship with no mast but instead two long wings. Strange contraptions he would later learn were called propellers were affixed to the ship, one on each wing and one right behind the main body. It was a marvel of magic and engineering, and he found it a bit odd that such a magnificent way of transportation was only treated to a simple wooden tower as a means to pick up passengers. He turned and asked Wardes, who had donned a light shade of green.

"How come such a great ship only gets a small tower? Surely, if this is what you referred to as a port city it must have a better way to dock airships?"

Wardes turned slowly, and before he could answer a young boy, likely one of the locals, answered the question.

"We used to have a big old docking tower, made from fancy bricks and with many docks on top, but it just sank through the ground yesterday. Sinkhole, papa called it. So we had to erect the spare tower. Hihi, erect…"

Before anyone could ask more about this mysterious sinkhole, the boy had ran away and Wardes had begun making his way to the docking tower. After a long climb, during which Louise wished her chainmail-strengthened pants weren't quite so heavy, they finally reached the docking platform. By the rope holding the airship to the platform there stood a man, dressed in leather boots, pants of thick hide and a jacket also made from hide. The type of hide was easy to identify, as the head of the animal was still attached and hung behind the man's head. A distinct snout and pink colouring told them the man before them had skinned a pig, and kept the head intact as a hood on his new coat for some reason.

Wardes approached the sailor, and after a brief episode of haggling about the prize the sailor nodded, took a step to the side and produced a whistle from one of his many pockets. After he blew it three times he received three tones from someone on the ship, and a rope ladder was thrown down. The sailor started climbing it, and motioned for the others to follow. As Ysmir, Louise and Wardes reached the deck of the ship, they received a proper welcome by the man in the pig coat. He was around fifty years old, just a few centimetres shorter than Wardes, but likely weighed almost double that of the lean captain. His figure told tales of much food and more wine, with a red nose, round potbelly and unkept hair. His eyes were blue and intelligent, though, and his voice was surprisingly deep when he greeted them.

"Welcome onboard the North wind, Lady and gentlemen. I'm Captain Percival of Rosso, but just call me Porco. Everyone does. Now, your cots can be found on the lower deck, and food is served whenever Cooky rings the bell. We will reach Albion in two days, and we will stay in port for fifteen hours, after which we return to Tristain. Any questions?"

"How is the ship constructed? What powers the engines? What is your top speed? How large of a crew do you need to operate it? How much did it cost you?"

Everyone turned to Ysmir, who looked genuinely interested and curious. Porco on the other hand laughed, a musty laugh with tones of surprise.

"You can come with me, and I'll take you on a quick tour. You two are also welcome to join in. Everyone else, get to work!

The crew dispersed, most going to get their flying gear. It might be spring in Tristain, but on high altitudes it could snow in the middle of summer.

They had a long sail ahead of them.

 **Author's Comments:**

 **WOOHOO, IT'S LONG! This is actually the second longest chapter I've ever written, and I think it is pretty good. Then again, it took me a bloody long time to write. In my defence, my arm is currently bandaged up to the elbow from a skiing accident, meaning I am basically typing this with one hand.**

 **Ah well, at least it's done, and there are EASTER EGGS!**

 **There are two in this chapter.**

 **Firstly, Ysmir has some philosophical ways to look at power. Another character also mentions something very close to this. I want the name and title of the character, the book series he appears (briefly) in and the name of the main character.**

 **Secondly, the captain of the airship. What I am referencing is pretty obvious here, but it will be made even more so in the next chapter. Even so, I want the name of the movie I am referencing, and the time period it takes place during.**

 **There is also one from last chapter:**

 **A certain well-known quote is mentioned in the latter half of chapter 18. The man who said it originally (at least according to legend) is hailed as one of the fathers of modern scientific theory. I want the original quote, the name of the man who said it and his impact on the sciences.**

 **Just because I got so many incorrect answers, it is NOT Galileo Galilei. I guess you all just googled "Father of modern science" and wrote it down. Seriously, there is more than one father of modern science. I will give you a hint, he died of a cold.**

 **With that over with, I'm out!**


	20. Chapter 20: Enter Sheffield's Voice!

**Motherfu- oh, it's you guys. Hello, and sorry for the angry greeting. It is I, Ossa, deceiver of Canadians and apprentice of words. Before I announce the HONORARY MENTIONS, be aware that NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE A Q &A.**

 **Now, we have an HONORARY MENTION:**

 **Rotciv557** **, as you should all know by now, tends to answer correctly within an hour of reading through the chapters. This has happened once again. The name of the Captain of the airship, Percival "Porco" of Rosso is obviously a reference to the Ghibli movie Porco Rosso, a relatively early creation of theirs. I suggest watching it, as with all Ghibli movies.**

 **Now then, we should get to the chapter!**

Chapter twenty: Enter Sheffield's Voice

Whilst Ysmir followed Captain Porco down to the engine room, Wardes explored the ship until he found a small, empty room, where the captain seemed to store whatever liquor he was transporting to avoid the crewmen drinking it all. A little wind magic easily lifted the hasp and allowed him entry, and he locked the door behind him. This should work, even if they were currently travelling. He opened the small, round window and held his swordwand out of it. After chanting a very complex incantation the weapon was glowing bright blue, and he unscrewed the handle and began talking into the handguard.

"Renegade to Reconquista. Renegade to Reconquista."

He waited, and then remembered he had to have his sword handle to his ear. He held it so that he could easily listen to it, and tried to call out again. This time, he got an answer almost immediately.

"Reconquista here, what do you need Renegade?"

"The plan failed, they had a spare docking tower. We are on our way, and will arrive in approximately thirty hours. I suggest waiting to see if we can lure the prince out of hiding, and then surprising him with our main army."

The voice on the other side changed, and Wardes recognized it. It belonged to the woman who called herself Sheffield, who had been the one to revolutionise nearly everything the Reconquista had been doing. This way of communication was just one example. He had only met her once, and she was… intriguing, at the very least. Her voice was smooth as ice, but that ice was sharper and colder than anyone Wardes had ever met, bar himself.

"You want us to use our main forces? Why such a desire to overdo things? We could easily take the royal castle on with just a few hundred well placed mages, a team of fifty if we had any good infiltrators. Why so scared, Jacques?"

"I am never scared, but there has been a few complications. The Valliere girl has summoned a familiar, and I believe he is a force to be reckoned with. He defeated me within a few minutes of duelling, and it seems he can absorb magic using his shield. Better safe than sorry, as the commoners say."

He was almost certain he heard giggling on the other side, but when the voice returned it was just as collected as always.

"Fine, we'll consider it. Now, I suggest you grab a bottle of some kind and act drunk. I can hear footsteps closing in, and you would not want to be caught talking to the enemies…"

Wardes decided against Sheffield's advice, and instead hid behind a few crates of wine. Stealth was not his greatest skill, but he mumbled the incantation for the only silencing spell he knew, and prayed to the Founder.

It all made no difference, as the footsteps passed the door I quite a hurry. Wardes listened carefully, and then exited the room through the door, closing it behind him.

 _Viewpoint change!_

Louise was looking for Ysmir, and somewhere they both could train. Their last lesson, which had been just before they entered the forest Fouquet was hiding in, had been rather short and only practical, serving to teach her how to overcharge her destruction spells by dual wielding. She hoped they could use the time on the ship to their advantage, rather than just doing a whole lot of nothing.

Ysmir had promised to teach her a healing spell whenever they had time. They had gotten into a lot of fights lately, so she was looking forward to learning some basic healing.

She found Ysmir, along with Captain Porco, on the lowest deck in the cargo hold. Porco explained to them that he and his crew bought resources from traders in Albion and payed with agricultural supplies from Tristain. This netted them a nice little profit, and would help Albion when the war had finally ended. As much as she found economics and the like interesting, she cut him off when he started to get into the intricacies of walnut trading.

"Captain, do you happen to know of any rarely visited rooms in the ship? I need to continue my training, and it would help to not have to worry about anything else."

"Well, why don't you train in here? My crewmen rarely come down here when we're in flight, and as long as you don't burn my cargo or blow up my ship you can do what you want here."

After receiving two professions of gratitude and, unbeknownst to Louise, a small gift from Ysmir Porco retreated from the cargo hold and headed towards his personal drinking room to see if the quartermaster had forgotten to lock the door this time. Hidden under his sailing coat was a small bottle of Cyrodiilic brandy. It wasn't often that he had passengers, and he had never received alcoholic treats from any of them. The large man who called himself Ysmir had just earned a place in Porco's good book, which was more of a pamphlet considering how few names were in there.

In the cargo hold Louise sat down on a crate as Ysmir continued on with their lecture on healing.

"You know the basic theory of all magicka, and you have learnt the Flames spell so well that you can dual wield it. That is good, but now we are entering a new domain of magicka. Restoration is quite different from Destruction."

Ysmir motioned for Louise to stand up, and she did so, quite intrigued to learn a spell from a different school. Though she had decided to not focus on Restoration, healing spells were useful enough to learn anyway. Ysmir continued.

"Remember the lake of magicka from last time? Instead of creating a stream to your hand, this time I want you to try and reshape the magicka. We likened it to water before, so try to make it evaporate. Create a cloud of steam, and direct it to your hands. Whilst doing this, fill your mind with images of warmth and comfort."

It took a few tries, but after a couple of minutes Louise opened her eyes to see an orb of amber light hovering above her palm. She marvelled at it, it looked so wonderful and warm. She tried leading more metaphorical steam through the orb, and felt warmth and energy spread over her entire being. Just as a test, she drew Claw and gave herself a very shallow wound on the back of her hand. The wound closed up almost as quickly as she caused it, and she felt even warmer than before when the amber light spread to surround her hand completely. The phenomenon only lasted for a moment before the gash was healed, but it was nonetheless interesting. She could imagine this being very useful in their mission, if not just overall.

Ysmir continued, suitably happy with his student.

"Now, healing in general is often useful. Just remember, if a wound or broken bone heals on its own restoring it to its original shape is very difficult and usually painful. Thus, I think you should learn a variation to the standard healing spell. It is known as Healing Hands, and is exactly the same except for the fact that it heals someone else instead of you."

Louise wondered what he meant by painful. She had just cut herself, and barely felt a thing. Then she realized something: if a bone healed into a strange shape you would have to shatter the bone into fragments small enough to be repositioned by the spell. The resulting urge to sit down when she imagined the horrific pain that must be the consequence of this prompted her to listen intently when Ysmir continued. This time it was easier, and she managed to quite easily heal a small gash Ysmir inflicted in himself using Fang.

The lesson concluded with Ysmir going over the basic theory of Alteration. Even though she had chosen to focus on it, this was the first time Ysmir actually taught Louise any of it.

"Okay, let's think back to the lake. So far we have created a stream from it, and turned its water to healing steam. Now, we need to go deeper. I want you to dive deep into the lake, and feel the ever shifting water around you. Let it flow into you, and become part of you. When working with Alteration, remember this: reality is just an opinion. If you disagree with it, you can use your power to change it."

Ysmir paused to see how Louise was taking in the information. Quite well, it seemed. She had closed her eyes, and he could sense a shift in her being. Good, good, it seemed she had a talent for this school. Interesting, but not very surprising. The magic system she had studied for years was quite similar to the one he was teaching her now. He continued.

"Now, imagine for a second that you have not one, but two layers of skin. The second layer is not only invisible, but hard as wood. Collect as much power as you feel comfortable handling, and push it through the idea of your second skin. It should be resting in your hand now."

A small cuboid, light turquoise in colour, appeared in Louise's hand. She opened her eyes, and looked slightly surprised that it had worked. She tentatively released the power she held in her hand, and a strange, clanging noise could be heard. A blue glow appeared out of thin air and laid itself to rest upon her clothes and skin, as an outer layer. She did not feel weighed down by the spell, so she performed a small test to see if it truly worked.

She drew Claw and dropped the dagger, blade first, upon her foot.

She somewhat expected the dagger to pierce her skin, and even prepared the healing spell she had learnt a few minutes ago, but it was unnecessary. The dagger bounced on her shoe, as if it was as hard as stone, and fell to the floor.

Louise was happy, but Ysmir contemplated not teaching her anymore. Oakflesh, the spell he had taught her, would not have protected her fully against the dagger. She had skipped it, and produced enough power to go straight to the stronger version known as Stoneflesh. She had unknowingly done something that took experienced mages many years to do: she had created a new spell. Well, new for her. He already knew it, but she didn't.

This was unsettling. However, Ysmir was interrupted in his calculations as a large boom was heard. The ship trembled, and captain Porco stumbled in through the door to the cargo hold with a nose as red as a tomato.

"All hands on deck! We are under attack!"

 **Author's comments:**

 **Well, that could have gone better. But it could have gone worse, too, so I'll keep it. Even if it is pretty short.**

 **HEADS UP: NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE A Q &A. LIKELY UP WITHIN A FEW HOURS, IF NOT LESS.**

 **There are no Easter eggs in this chapter, but I will give you a challenge:**

 **Ysmir gives Porco a bottle containing a certain alcoholic beverage. Which daedric prince can be summoned using it?**

 **There are also some older eggs:**

 **In chapter nineteen, Ysmir has some philosophical ways to look at power. Another character also mentions something very close to this. I want the name and title of the character, the book series he appears (briefly) in and the name of the main character.**

 **One more:**

 **A certain well-known quote is mentioned in the latter half of chapter 18. The man who said it originally (at least according to legend) is hailed as one of the fathers of modern scientific theory. I want the original quote, the name of the man who said it and his impact on the sciences.**

 **Just because I got so many incorrect answers, it is NOT Galileo Galilei. I guess you all just googled "Father of modern science" and wrote it down. Seriously, there is more than one father of modern science. I will give you a hint, he died of a cold. Pneumonia, to be perfectly specific.**

 **See you soon, oh ye of little patience and much laziness.**

 **Ossa out!**


	21. Chapter 21: Q&A, for the third time

**Greetings, disappointed minions. It is I, Ossa, deceiver of Canadians and apprentice of words. I have heard your questions, and will now answer them!**

 **The guest Me Myself and I said, after reading chapter nineteen:**

Ysmir weights 190 kg?

According to Google Arnold Schwarzenegger weights 113 kg, Ysmir is either really fat or too big to pass through a door.

Also, excessively heavy armor is just imractical, according to the wikipedia historical complete set of plate armor weighted around 15-25 kg, even jousting armor (a specialized armor that wasn't meant for battlefield use) didn't weight more than 50 kg.

 **In any normal case you would have been perfectly correct, so good job, but let us start with the armour. Daedric armour has a canonical weight of 96 kilos for a full suit including shield, so that's not my fault.**

 **As for our favourite dragonborn, when I created his character I wanted to give him a small advantage wince he was going to be fighting big golems without any fighter planes: his bones are, for all intents and purposes, dragon bones. This makes his skeleton extremely heavy, and only through his semi-unnatural dragonborn strength is he able to move normally. Seeing as his body therefore has a huge mass, punches or other blunt attacks are much stronger than normally. I hinted at this when he broke off the Valkyrie Queen's sword.**

 **An unnamed Guest said, after reading chapter eighteen:**

...Okayyy,

I thought we were in a canon version of FoZ with smatterings of Dovahkiin thrown in, but it is clear that this is definitely some form of AU.

Wonder what changed.

 **You are entirely correct, and the first one to notice. We shall see when I decide to explain it fully.**

 **Zeek17 said, after reading chapters seven and fourteen:**

... the hell is this?  
If you need to chat, go to forum or something. You know? Screw this. Fic is not interesting enough to suffer through these mood-breakers.

 **Well, you are likely not with us anymore, so I'll just state this for the record:**

 **Having a Q &A every seven chapters is not too much, at least not according to me. You can just skip it if you don't want it. I find it useful and I will continue with a Q&A every seven chapters unless otherwise stated.**

 **Apparuerit Diabolo et Loqui said, after reading chapter four:**

You had me until you dragged in annoying game mechanics.

 **I'll assume you mean the "Questing rules" introduced in this chapter. I see them more as Ysmir's personal rituals and rules. He has been doing this for sixty years, no wonder he has gotten slightly superstitious.**

 **Guest, Razith and Razor, all guests and presumably the same person, have said variations of this after reading chapter one:**

The sniper Mei is the user of pumpkin in akame ga kill.

 **To be quite honest with you, I don't even…**

 **Why would this be even somewhat important? Akame ga kill has nothing to do with my story, and has not featured in my easter eggs even once. I am going to assume that you are a spammer or troll.**

 **Mangahero18 said, after reading chapter sixteen:**

Better than all others of this cross type. Keep up the good work.

 **Aww, that's really nice but not really true. No Need for Halkeginian Logic is way, way better, if slightly on the jump-cut side. Read it, though.**

 **Pltrgst said, after reading chapter two:**

them getting into the right conclusions that fast is kinda annoying.. its as if the author whispers the plot just right beside them. imo, atleast add a little more scene and/or evidence.

 **Well, I am not going to change chapter two when I'm 40 000 words in. I understand what you are saying, but I am in no way the worst here. I saw some guy literally whisper into the character's ear the entire plot, and I mean what I'm saying. He wrote himself in there just as a plot device. No matter, I am not going to change it but I acknowledge your opinion.**

 **We have an Honorary mention, but I'll save it for the next chapter.**

 **See you soon, oh ye of little patience. Ossa out!**


	22. Chapter 22: It's a… Pig?

**Many bananas ago, in a galaxy about thirty lightyears south of Aladdin's nipples, there lived an author known only as Ossa…**

 **Oh, you're back.**

 **Hello, my friends and foes, it is I once again. I have heard your prayers, strange as they may be, and returned after three days of studying for a math test, two days for a Social Studies test, and then two for a physics test… Gee, the Natural Science program is not for those unwilling to study. Anyway, story!**

 **But before we get to the story, here are two HONORARY MENTIONS:**

 **Jackaloupe89** **was the first of MANY who knew that you could summon Sanguine with Cyrodiilic brandy at his shrine. Good job, buddy!**

 **Tankbuster626** **finally figured out that the "Knowledge is power" quote is from Sir Francis Bacon, one of the fathers of modern scientific theory. Great job, and may you bust many tanks in the future.**

 **With that out of the way, let's get to the chapter! I seem to recall there being an attack?**

Chapter twenty two: It's a… Pig?

Ysmir and Louise followed the severely intoxicated captain up to the deck. Sailors were manning small cannons all over the ship, and some were aiming their muskets towards the offending ship. The boatswain and First mate were barking out orders, and it seemed they were followed to the letter.

The supposed attackers dwelled on another airship, located about eight hundred meters off the starboard bow. It was getting dark outside, and the only thing betraying the fact that there was a ship there was the light of several lanterns. The entire ship seemed to be painted black, and the sails had a dark red colour. All in all, a stealth and ambush vessel, specifically created for nightly operations. Ysmir wondered why they hadn't simply sneaked up and taken them by surprise, and then he remembered the gigantic telescope captain Porco had shown him yesterday. He had mentioned that it had a magical lens, and could detect living organisms within a few kilometres. Very useful at night, or when doing some emergency fishing to expand the food storage.

The would-be attackers had sped up, and were approaching at an alarming rate. Captain Porco wobbled over to the helm and grabbed the steering wheel. He performed an evasive manoeuvre consisting of a quick dive and a sharp turn, which had his passengers feeling slightly sick to their stomachs and the attackers missing the intended boarding. Porco had gained time by making the enemies reposition, and he used that time semi-wisely. He barked an order to the first mate, who fetched a box.

Porco placed the box before him on the deck, and stepped onto it. He glared onto his crew with watery blue eyes, and then he seemed to straighten his posture whilst simultaneously sobering up substantially. He was still quite obviously overweight and drunk, but now you could see hints of muscle and determination behind the curtain of fat and the puffy, red face.

"Well well boys, I think we're being attacked! Fancy that, huh? I wonder, what are we ever going to do?"

The crew stopped in their tracks, and each donned a sly grin, like a fox, if you could imagine foxes in human clothing.

"They must not know who they are dealing with!"

"Yeah, we'll take 'em out!"

"It's been a long time since we had a good fight…"

Porco casually withdrew a flintlock pistol from one of his many pockets, and fired it into the air. The talking died out. He handed the pistol to the quartermaster and laid his right hand over his heart. He spoke with an almost regal tone, like this was a holy ritual.

"Tell me, my crew, who are we?"

The crew answered, wildly and unruly but each with their right hand over their heart.

"We are the War Pigs, scourge of the skies!"

"And tell me then, War Pigs, who is it that leads you?"

"It is Porco of Rosso, the Red Boar!"

Ysmir, Louise and Wardes were all staring, Wardes more so than the others as he was the only one who had actually heard of the vigilante group who called themselves the War Pigs. They fought pirates around Halkeginia's west coast, and no one knew who their leader was. Until know, anyways. Porco continued.

"And tell me then, War Pigs, led by the Red Boar, why do you fight?"

Unlike the other answers, this one was bitter, like each and every War Pig had lost something dear to them. They reminded Ysmir of Isran and the Dawnguard, for some reason.

"We fight to keep the sky safe. We kill so others don't have to. We bleed so that others may prosper."

"Well then War Pigs, led by the Red Boar, who bleed so that others may prosper, I order you to take up your weapons! We fight our eternal foe tonight, and the battle will likely be bloody. Are you with me?!"

A uniform cry of absolute approval sounded, and each crewmember went back to manning their stations with increased ferocity. Porco flipped the hood on his jacket forward, using the hollow pig head as a helmet of sorts. He turned to his passengers, and spoke.

"I suggest you keep quiet about this. We don't usually carry passengers, and the crew needed to hear that. Now, do any of you know how to fire a gun?"

He was met with shaking heads. Ysmir had never seen firearms before, Louise had never been in a real battle and Wardes wasn't about to reveal his extensive marksmanship training when he was so close to his target. After all, if the airship was sunk by pirates the mission would be delayed enough for Reconquista to attack the royal castle and retrieve the documents.

"Then use whatever magic you can to bring that airship down. We may be the good guys, but we're still pigs. We fight dirty if we can."

Ysmir nodded and produced his crossbow, loaded with exploding fiery bolts. He had never fought anyone in the air, but there was a first time for everything.

 _Viewpoint change, and time skip!_

Above the sea between Albion and Tristain, two airships hovered close to each other. An aerial observer would have noticed that the darker ship seemed to have sustained extreme trauma, with torn sails, singed boards and large holes caused by rapidly flying cannonballs. The other ship, which did not have any sails but rather wings, would have seemed surprisingly well off, considering a battle had just taken place.

If the aerial observer had seen the battle itself the conditions of the ships would not be as surprising. The darker ship had never even fired upon the other one, and the winged ship had more or less stopped shooting only when the opponents had hoisted the white flag they were currently sporting.

Currently the captain of the darker ship, who had identified himself as Prince Wales Tudor of Albion under the significant stress of having Ysmir point a crossbow at the back of his head, was onboard the _North wind_ in the captain's quarters. His blonde hair, which reminded Ysmir somewhat of that Guiche boy, was unkept and sweaty, and some of his previous nervousness still lingered in his facial expression even though he had spent several minutes repeating the same phrase.

"Again, I am really sorry for the misunderstanding. Our spymaster recognized the aura of Henrietta's ring, and I just assumed you had kidnapped her! Really, I did not know of your mission."

Louise sighed. Royalty or not, she was quickly becoming disillusioned with the rambling crown prince before her.

"Yes, we know, but why are you here Your Highness? Shouldn't you be in the royal castle, holding your forces together?"

Wales motioned to his right-hand man, who stood beside him.

"Believe me, I tried to! It is not my fault that a group of my men decided to commit high treason by sedating and kidnapping me! They obey my every whim, let me play captain, they would do anything except turning around and going back. Isn't that right, Charles?"

The man now known as Charles raised his voice in protest.

"Your highness, we couldn't just let you die there! Each and every man left in the army agreed to execute the plan. You are going to live, whether you like it or not."

Ysmir wasn't too surprised with how things had turned out. Weirder things had happened on his many quests. He only had one issue pressing enough to voice.

"Well, you being safe is certainly a good thing, considering the current state of your nation. Even so, our mission was not primarily to retrieve you. We were to collect the letters sent to you by the princess, so do you have them with you?"

Wales paled slightly. Not at all because of the gigantic man in demonic armour before him, but because he realized what those letters might do to his beloved.

"They are located in my chambers, fastened underneath my bed. I would have taken them with me, if I would have been conscious when I left. Please, Charles, we must turn around!"

Charles, however, stood his ground.

"Absolutely not, Your Highness. As I see it, there is absolutely no need for you to risk your life once again. These people are already going there, and now they know where the letters are, too!"

Ysmir and Louise reluctantly agreed, and the meeting was settled. After boarding his ship, Prince Wales set course north. He explained to Louise that he had some contacts in southern Varangia who had promised him safe housing. After all, almost no one travelled there from the rest of Halkeginia.

Wardes had slipped away when no one was looking to report this information to his superiors. With Prince Wales out of the castle, the royalists would be easy pickings.

Captain Porco did not care that much about the prince, but he had given his word to take his passengers to Albion and that he would. Since it was now close to midnight, he ordered the first mate to take the helm and headed for his quarters. He had a cot waiting for him.

Louise also headed for her quarters. She had experienced enough for this night, and knew that she would need every speck of energy she could muster tomorrow.

Ysmir, who did not need sleep, decided to stay up to help the first mate. If nothing else, he could help the poor man stay awake. If he did a good job, he might even get to steer the airship!

Wardes, on the other hand, just exited captain Porco's drinking room after conversing with his superiors. He headed to bed, too, slightly bummed that he did not receive permission to hunt down the prince. He could have called on his gryphon and stealthily assassinated Wales, but Sheffield apparently had other plans in store for both of them.

 _Oh well,_ they all thought _, we have to be ready for tomorrow._

 _Viewpoint change!_

The woman currently going by the name of Sheffield looked out over the dark plains of Albion. A nightly breeze blew towards her, and brought with it the smell of burning flesh and the sounds of destruction. Albion had been much too peaceful when she had arrived, but now, with the royal castle sacked and burning, and the armies of Reconquista bending to her every whim, she was very nearly content.

However, there was always that nagging feeling, that voice whispering in the back of her head.

Whatever she did, it was never enough. She was like a Skooma addict, always yearning for more.

There was never enough death.

Always too few enslaved thralls.

Her underlings were never submissive enough.

Her Lord beckoned her to enslave the entire continent, all in his name. Only then would she be content. She could almost hear the voices of all her former allies, betrayed one after another. They always trusted her too much, even when they saw the darkness in her core. Even when she cut their throats.

Everyone was the same. Too trusting, too willing to believe in lies. Even assassins, even murderers, even thieves.

Even Serana.

 **Author's comments:**

 **Wow. That took a long time, didn't it? I'm sorry, I just had many tests to study for. Also, a big reveal at the end of a very stretched out chapter. I'm not very happy with the War Pigs monologue, but hey, what can you do?**

 **Anyways, we have Easter eggs! Close to Easter too…**

 **There are none in this chapter, but one from earlier:**

 **In chapter nineteen, Ysmir has some philosophical ways to look at power. Another character also mentions something very close to this. I want the name and title of the character, the book series he appears (briefly) in and the name of the main character. A hint: the main character has red hair.**

 **And with that, I bid you good day.**

 **Ossa out!**


	23. Chapter 23: Arrival and Destruction

**There once was an author named Ossa, destined to be an ass…**

 **His stories were ridden with commas, the characters rather crass…**

 **But though he lacked talent, he tried as he might**

 **And produced something that felt quite alright!**

 **His followers many, his praise sung for ages**

 **And he never earned even a penny for wages.**

 **His poetic career, which he swiftly cut short,**

 **had each follower screaming. "ABORT!" "ABORT!"**

 **And thus ends the story of Ossa, loved and hated,**

 **And it was a story he never updated.**

 **Well, sorry for that. I get the strangest ideas when I'm writing.**

 **Hello my friends, 'tis I, Ossa, Deceiver of Canadians and Apprentice of Words. I wanted to thank each and every one of my followers, and the people who have favorited me, and thus I started this chapter early! There is no guarantee whatsoever that it will be finished early, though.**

 **Even so, as of yet there are no honorary mentions since no one found the Easter egg of chapter nineteen.** **Too bad, really. Soon characters might start hurting themselves.**

 **I wonder what Tabitha might do if her mother died?**

Chapter twenty three: Arrival and Destruction

Ysmir roused Evangio, the first mate, from his sleep. He had taken over for the crewmember on steering duty at the early hours in the morning, but now the others were rousing and he could hear Porco grumbling over a hangover. Best not to let the captain catch his new friend sleeping.

As the previous helmsman awoke and expressed great gratitude to the Dragonborn for allowing him to sleep a little, Ysmir listened for signs of Louise having woken up yet. Hearing none, he accepted the thanks and headed towards his summoner's quarters.

After knocking twice without producing any detectable results, he decided he was allowed to pick the lock. Once he had done so, he opened to door and laid eyes on Louise. She was sleeping soundly, and not for the first nor last time he wondered if those explosions of hers had given her any hearing damage. He grabbed the pair of pants from their resting place on a chair, and threw them at her with the intent of waking her up. He was unprepared for the reverberating crash they produced when they hit the cabin wall just beside her face. Apparently they concealed some sort of flexible armament. He made a mental note to check how heavy any objects he was throwing at people lacking his strength were. For now, it did not matter. The desired effect had been produced.

Louise had awoken, with a start. In fact, the clatter had been enough to wake up Wardes, who was sleeping in the room next door.

"What?! What's happening?! Are we under attack again?!"

It took Ysmir a while to calm down his summoner, and even then she was not happy about being robbed of her sleep. Her anger faded, though, as the three of them came up on deck and looked out over Albion. The white cliffs were breath taking, and seemed to shimmer in the sunrise. Louise could barely see a building located at the top of one of those cliffs, made from the same, white stone. It looked like a lighthouse, but with a platform on top, and featured an external staircase down to the ground below. Right where the staircase ended there were a gathering of houses, around four. One of them was significantly bigger, and seemed to be an inn.

She breathed in deep, happy to soon be setting her feet on dry land. Floating land, sure, but land was land.

Beside her, Ysmir was balancing extreme happiness and worry. He had never seen or stepped onto a floating island before, but he unlike Louise could smell the smoke on the wind and see the boarded up windows of the houses.

It might be too late.

 _Time skip!_

Wardes was getting progressively more nervous as they were getting closer to the royal castle in Londonium. He saw no peasants on the road, and no soldiers from either side were fighting. It was like riding through a dead land, even if the sun was shining and a light breeze was blowing.

Of course, the fact that there were no soldiers anywhere might mean that Reconquista had already beaten the royalists and set up camp in the castle. That was the most likely reason, but he still felt like something was wrong.

Ysmir noticed Wardes tensing up more and more the closer they got to the capital city. He chalked it up to nervousness, though, as Louise was displaying similar symptoms. Even he, a battle-hardened warrior with extreme experience of fighting, was starting to worry slightly. He could smell people, but every house they rode past had been boarded up and empty. It was like everyone had suddenly disappeared, and that did not bode well.

The city grew on the horizon. The castle, situated on a large hill in the heart of the major settlement, was astounding. It vaguely reminded Ysmir of Dragonsreach and Fort Dawnguard, in equal measure. It stretched out to the skies, dominating the surroundings, but was designed for war. There were little decorations, not even any banners, but the many towers and high walls gave the impression that it was a structure you did not take lightly.

In stark contrast to the castle, the surrounding city was in shambles. Wooden houses were burning, the smell laying close to the ground, thick and horrid, like singed hair. The few stone houses there were had been smashed to bits, looted and then left to fall apart. The cobbled road was littered with debris, but still there were no signs of people. The small group tied the two horses to a fence and went inside the ruin of a rather big house to strategize.

Wardes spoke first, and had a layer of authority to his voice.

"We should not simply march in. There must be a stealthier way than walking through the front gate."

Ysmir and Louise both agreed, and the dragonborn dug in his backpack. He brought forth a big bottle of water, three spherical gatherings of of what seemed like insect eggs and a pouch of ashy grey powder.

"I think I have an idea. I need a mortar and pestle, and a cooking pot."

Neither of his companions questioned his request. Wardes snuck out to scavenge, and brought back a worn stone bowl and a broken knife with a round pommel. Louise found what used to be a helmet, and made sure it did not leak.

Ysmir took the items and laid them out on a partially broken table. Using his shield as a base, he made a small fire with some twigs and a few magical flames when Wardes was not looking. He ground up the eggs and sprinkled three pinches of the grey powder onto the mush, before putting it into the helmet and warming it over the fire until it liquefied. He then poured the now white fluid into his half-full bottle of water, and sloshed the contents about for a few moments.

He then poured some of the white fluid into the cap of his water bottle, and handed it to Wardes.

"This is a very basic potion of Invisibility. It will bend light around our bodies, effectively rendering us impossible to spot. It won't last long, though, and any sudden movements will dissolve the effect. It should be powerful enough to allow us to walk into the castle unseen by any defenders."

 _Time skip!_

The Royal castle, which had seemed so staunch and indomitable from the outside, was seemingly lifeless when Ysmir, Wardes and Louise snuck through the main, unlocked gate. There were no signs of recent battle, but there were also no royalist soldiers running about.

The eerie silence was unnerving Louise as she followed the boot prints caused by Ysmir walking ahead of them across the courtyard. Since they had entered the enormous castle they had seen no signs of life at all, save for a few horses bound in the stables.

And yet, invisible or not, she felt… Watched.

Chills constantly travelled up her spine. At least three times she could have sworn she had seen yellow lights in one of the windows. But she could not let that deter her. She called up the steeled mentality her mother always employed, and walked silently onwards with Wardes in tow.

Until, that is, two hands emerged from beneath the dirt of the courtyard and grabbed onto her ankles.

Without so much as realizing what had just happened, Louise drew her daggers and sliced the hands clean off with the wickedly sharp blades. As the severed appendages fell to the ground, she felt the invisibility disperse. She could see Ysmir appear before her, so it seemed the potion was running out, too.

She had very little time to think, though, since now hands sprouted all over the courtyard. Whilst looking at them in shock, she saw how horrid they actually were. They looked rotted, with purplish tints here and there. As the creatures slowly crawled up through the soil, Ysmir drew his weapons and called out to Wardes.

"They're reanimated dead! We have a necromancer somewhere!"

 _Viewpoint change!_

The woman currently going by the name of Sheffield was observing the battle. Her weakest underlings, the reanimated corpses of the royal soldiers who had previously guarded the castle, were getting positively shredded down there by the combined efforts of her double agent Wardes, the oh-so-mysterious Familiar, and the Tristanian agent.

She was not troubled by this fact. She had placed them there with the express purpose to assess the strength of her new foes. After her scouts had reported that the Familiar was wearing black and red armour with menacing spikes, she wanted to make sure her assumptions of the origins of the man were correct.

So far, it seemed that way.

As soon as the battle had started, he had brought forth a Circle of Protection nearly five meters across. If that wasn't a sign of a Master of restoration, she did not know what was. More importantly, both he and the Tristanian agent were using Tamrielic magic, and he was wearing Daedric armour. There was a significant chance that he, too, was from Nirn…

She shook herself from her musings and focused on the battle below. Her undead were getting beaten back, and most had been reduced to ash by the little pink-haired girl and her impressively powerful streams of fire. If the mysterious man posed as big of a challenge that she thought he would, she would need a little help. The sun was still up, and its rays were equally searing in this world as in her own realm. It might just be time to change that.

She ordered her small taskforce of vampires to move in and delay the adversaries, and headed for the darkest and deepest dungeon she had managed to find in the castle.

As she ran down the spiralling stairs, she thought of when she had come to this world. The portal had been impressively big, enough to swallow the entire wagon she was travelling in, along with all of her _Luggage_. It was good, too, for the feat she was about to pull required something that would have been very difficult to find in these lands.

 _Viewpoint change!_

Louise had just incinerated the last of the horrific corpses wearing the army of the Albionese Royal Guard when she heard a whistling sound. Instinctively she dashed out of the way, and mere moments later a spear of ice embedded itself into the dirt where she had stood.

She followed the trajectory to an open door, leading into the main barracks. She contemplated going in, when something decided to come out instead.

A man stepped out from the shadow of the door. He was wearing a red, frilly jacket, complete with a small cape, and his long sleeves, high boots, tight trousers, thick gloves and hood covered his entire figure from her sight. Still, he seemed to be in pain; she could make out snarling facial features and he moved with great trepidation. She caught a glimpse of his eyes, yellow and glowing, and his retracted lips exposed two long, gleaming fangs.

She had only just thought the word _Vampire_ when he rushed forward, faster than any human could, and the rest of his ilk spilled forth from the shadows like a tide of darkness.

 **Author's comments:**

 **Could have gone worse, could have gone better. Took me quite a while, though. Even so, I like it. The main reasons this chapter (And the one before it) was/were so delayed was because I have spent a lot of time coming up with characters and lore. It's not really a big change per fanfic standard, but it seems to get more complicated by the minute.**

 **Now, enough of my ramblings, we need some EASTER EGGS!**

 **There are none in this chapter, but I have a CHALLENGE:**

 **We have all met Sheffield by now, but who is she? Review, and the one that's closest to the truth can have an Honorary mention and some influence.**

 **Also, we have an older Easter egg:**

 **In chapter nineteen, Ysmir has some philosophical ways to look at power. Another character also mentions something very close to this. I want the name and title of the character, the book series he appears (briefly) in and the name of the main character. A hint: the main character has red hair.**

 **And with that, I bid you all good day. I eagerly await your wild guesses.**

 **Ossa out!**


	24. Chapter 24: Into the Night

**6.11: And thus, following the multiverse theorem, it stands to reason…**

 **Oh. We have company. I will continue the lecture another time.**

 **Hello fellow readers, 'tis I, Ossa, Deceiver of Canadians and Apprentice of Words. So far, no one has answered neither the Easter egg nor the Challenge sufficiently correct, so no HONORARY MENTIONS yet.**

 **Such a shame. I do wonder what Tabitha and Kirche are doing right now.**

 **Maybe they aren't doing anything anymore.**

 **Chapter twenty-four: Into the Night**

Ysmir sensed the creatures before they spewed out of the doorway, and called forth a new Circle of Protection to replace the decaying older one. Wardes got the message, and retreated into the circle as well whilst calling forth lightning left and right. Louise, however was not so lucky.

She had strayed quite far from the others in her mission to incinerate each and every undead soldier, and was now located roughly twenty meters away from the edge of the Circle. The vampires were moving in to cut her off from the other two. That was not acceptable.

Ysmir prepared to perform a Whirlwind Sprint in order to help her, but before he could speak the Words of Power Louise noticed her current predicament. She saw the creatures moving toward her, hunger in their eyes and sadistic smiles on their lips. She felt her body numb, and yet her mind was sharper than ever before. She descended into the lake of Magicka, and without even realizing it she summoned her Flames once again.

Time. She needed more time.

She heard her own voice speak, but did not understand the word it said.

" **TIID!"**

The world froze. She opened her eyes to find the vampires moving very slowly, as if running through syrup, to intersect her escape path to Ysmir's magic circle. Ysmir himself was frozen in place, his mouth moving extremely sluggishly whilst his eyes were staring at her.

She looked down to find her small orbs of flame still situated in the palm of her hand. The fire calmed her, and she unconsciously diverted more magicka to it than ever before. The fire, in response to the abundance of energy, grew exponentially until it surrounded her. She recognized the look of a cloaking spell, like the one Wardes had used when duelling Ysmir.

She did not think more than briefly about how she had done it, but instead sprinted onwards through the vampire horde. Time moved quicker now, and they hesitated to touch her for fear of being burned by her flaming cloak.

She got to the circle just as the world returned to its normal pace. Wardes was busy calling down lightning from a cloudless sky, but Ysmir had noticed her stunt. She could feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of her neck. She would be facing a fierce questioning later.

She focused on the vampires who were surrounding Ysmir's Circle. They did not touch its edges, but instead dashed around it whilst sending various pointy projectiles of ice towards the three people within. Louise dodged an icy spear thicker than her leg and sent a thick stream of fire back as payment. The vampires seemed weaker to the Flames than the undead soldiers had been, and screamed out when the fire destroyed their protective garments and the sun burned them.

 _They could win this fight,_ Louise realized. With the Circle to repel the undead attackers they could pick away at them, one at a time, until there were none left. Louise was just happy enough to not notice the icy spike closing in from behind.

Her right shoulder exploded in pain, before becoming strangely numb. She knew what had happened, but that did not stop her from staring at the fist-sized hole through one of the few body parts not covered by the chainmail-strengthened cloak and pants. Her beige shirt was already turning crimson.

 _Viewpoint change!_

Wardes was confused as he leapt forwards and pierced another vampire with his swordwand. The creature spilled what passed for its guts onto his blade, and he moved on to slice the throat of another one. He had arrived at the castle like his Mistress had commanded, and then he had been attacked by these strange creatures. In a way they actually reminded him of Lady Sheffield, equally cold and dangerous, but she had an aura of sophistication that these creatures lacked.

He dodged an icicle without looking and went on the defensive with a small hurricane spell. The current situation did not make sense.

Reconquista had had thousands of soldiers and at least a hundred battlemages when he had last met with them. Now, the only people within a kilometre seemed to be these monstrosities, and he doubted that they were driven by the Cause. Even if they were, he was an infiltrator of the highest calibre. They wouldn't waste his life here, would they?

As he contemplated this whilst avoiding frozen projectiles left and right, he **felt** something. That aura… he recognized it well.

His mistress had arrived.

 _Viewpoint change!_

Ysmir felt the strange aura too, and moved back from the protective stance he had previously held around his injured student and summoner. She was healing herself nicely, so he focused on sensing where the aura was coming from. Like how the taste of a red apple is similar to that of a green apple, it was familiar, and yet… not.

As a figure emerged from the top of the highest tower, the vampires who had been attacking them retreated in something akin to reverence. Wardes was confused, but happy that his mistress had arrived to sort things out. Louise was focusing too hard on maintaining her healing spell to question why there were not any icicles flying around her ears. Ysmir was, for the first time since he had come to this strange land, slightly afraid.

The figure was cloaked, but he recognized the weapon she was holding.

The cloaked figure raised the bow to the skies, and drew from a quiver a long, grey arrow with the faintest hint of something red covering the tip. She drew back the string, and let the arrow fly toward the sky.

At first, nothing seemed to happen, and Ysmir prayed that it was some sort of trick. Then, the sky changed. The sun seemed to be stained dark red, and the corrupting crimson colour spread across the sky, blocking out most of the light. The vampires began cackling, some almost madly, as the figure leapt from the highest tower and landed in the courtyard. The impact caused a small crater in the ground, but she did not look damaged in any way. She stood up, slowly, savouring the attention and dramatic stares she was receiving. Once upright, she threw off her cloak, showing off a distinctly feminine body clad in black and red leathery armour. Around her neck was a choker with the image of a demonic bat, and a short cape framed her figure.

Had Ysmir been a simpler man, he had been struck by her beauty. She was irrefutably fair, with dark eyes and dark hair, but he remained wary since he recognized both the signs of vampirism she was displaying as well as the outfit she was wearing. Thus, he renewed his Circle of Protection and went back into a defensive stance, making sure to be between the woman and Louise. Wardes did not register any of those actions. He was busy staring at his Mistress, waiting for her orders.

The woman spoke, and her voice carried a regal tone.

"Who are you, who dare invade my… recently acquired home? What brings you here, to my castle?"

Louise, finally done with her healing, was about to answer when Ysmir did it for her.

"Speak your mind instead of riddles and ridicule. You already know our mission. Isn't that right, Wardes?"

Louise quickly turned to look at her fiancé, who was strolling over to stand at the woman's side. His eyes appeared clouded, but he wore a silly smile on his lips. Yet, he did not answer. The woman did it for him.

"Ah, so you've discovered my little bird. Well done. I've been told he is quite the actor when he puts his mind to it. Yes, I know of your mission. You needn't worry. These papers are of little use to me. I have more efficient ways of manipulation."

She produced seemingly from nowhere a stack of letters, bound together with a red thread. Ysmir and Louise both watched as she summoned a flame in her left palm, and burned them to ash. Louise dully noticed that she had used the same kind of magic Ysmir had taught her. She would have wondered who this woman was, if she was not so shaken from the recent revelation that her fiancé was a traitor.

Ysmir realized it too, though.

"You use the magic of Nirn, and you wear the armour of the Vampire Royalty. Who are you, and why are _you_ here?"

The woman threw back her head and laughed. It was a cold, dead laugh, filled with betrayal and darkness. Then, she spoke.

"Very well. I may have asked you first, but then again I have been observing you for long enough. I am Lady Sheffield of Volkihar, Last of the Vampire Lords and Empress of the Balian Empire. I came here through some portal or other, summoned by some man who tried to bind me to his will. I killed him, of course, and set about finding a way home. When I didn't find anything, I settled for making this place my new one…

But enough of me, who are you? I know the brat is a native, but you both use Tamrielic magic."

Ysmir was shocked and confused. He had been surprised many times before, but this easily won any metaphorical cake. A vampire lord, who claimed to be from the Volkihar Clan. Only problem was how he had wiped out the Volkihars, save for Serana, in the events surrounding the rise of the Dawnguard. His mind decided she was trying to deceive it, and so it chose to let her know what she was dealing with.

"I have many names, but in this realm I have been known as Ysmir. If you are truly from Nirn, then you must know who I am. Run away, vampire, and I might give you a quick death. I have defeated your kind before and since I wiped out the Volkihars, starting with Harkon. I know you lie of your identity."

Ysmir studied his opponent to find any fright, but found only surprise. He also noticed the vampires around him were looking bored with the current dialogue, and thus he renewed his Circle once more and then readied the Sun fire spell. Sheffield, if that was her name, spoke once more.

"You say you killed Harkon. Impossible. I killed him, and then I took over the Clan… wait, when did you kill him?"

As she looked a lot less threatening now, Ysmir answered her.

"Around year 201 of the fifth era. That was a long time ago, now. Do you think it's possible…?"

"Another dragon break? Surely not, right? We couldn't BOTH have killed Harkon?"

"Maybe, but I don't think the Dragon broke again. By the time I was summoned, much like you by the way, it had gone almost sixty years from the death of Harkon. Time would probably have aligned again by then. There is only one recording for a dragon break lasting longer than a few years."

"Yes, you're right…"

 _Time skip!_

Louise could see the now severely bored vampires, heading through the darkness to the doorway they had first appeared through. No one tried to stop them, and Wardes soon followed with his shoulders sloped and his posture hunched over. Ysmir and Sheffield were too engaged in their discussion to see that Ysmir's Circle had long since dissipated.

"…So maybe we are not from the same Nirn? You think there may be several versions of the mortal plane, all slightly different? Weren't there some mage who theorized something like that?"

Sheffield thought about it, and then snapped her fingers as she answered.

"Yes, that's right! He was called Mendilir Mendilis, right? Wood elf, extremely gifted and with a talent for bending reality. Ended up becoming Archmage of the College of Winterhold, about five hundred years ago."

"Yes, that's right! I remember Urag talking about him! He was known as the Planeswalker, I think. Strongest mage since the meretic era to focus on Alteration, though his studies leaned more towards Conjuration. Say, didn't he disappear someplace during a lecture?"

"You don't think he was summoned here, do you?"

"It's possible, I suppose. We were summoned from different worlds, maybe he was too."

At this point, both parties looked around to find the courtyard empty, safe for a sleeping Louise behind Ysmir. They looked at each other, and then both slumped down on the ground. Ysmir raised his voice first.

"You couldn't keep the killing and enthralling to a minimum in this world, could you? You may be a prime contender for the rank of Nemesis, but I'd rather explore this strange place before exterminating vampires."

Sheffield thought about the disguised offer of peace, long and hard. The man before her was Dragonborn, he had said so himself, and his accomplishments far outweighed her own. He could probably beat her in a straight fight, so she would have to use subterfuge. Still, he was not a bad man. She liked his attitude of indifference with slight goodness mixed in, and didn't enjoy the idea of killing him.

She had been working on a way to return to her own realm, and having a champion of Akatosh was likely going to help in that regard. The dragon god of Time was known to travel between realms on occasions, so being on his decent side when he got here would likely be beneficial.

Either way, her biggest reason for enthralling and defeating this world had been her obligation as champion of Molag Bal. However, she had fought the urge to invade Akavir for nearly forty years by the time she was summoned, since she didn't think it would be beneficial to the Empire. She could fight the urge to enslave this world for a time.

She stood up, and reached out her hand. Ysmir grabbed it, and looked into her eyes. She spoke, with a more personal tone.

"We'll need to decide the absolute terms for this arrangement later, but for now I'll stay away from Halkeginia and its people. The Albionese civilians fled into the woodlands when we took the castle, but they will be free to leave.

In return, Tristain and its people, including you, will leave us alone. Any who enter our island will be prey. We will require a tax of three barrels of fir bark, ten barrels of wheat and eight barrels of animal blood every month. And before you ask, it is to make a substitute for human blood. Advanced alchemy."

Ysmir shook her hand.

"Those are acceptable terms. You can keep Wardes, though. I don't want an enthralled traitor in our midst."

Sheffield leaned to the side, looking past Ysmir towards the sleeping Louise.

"And you can keep the kid. You know, she has a strange magical aura…"

Ysmir nodded knowingly, and flexed his hand. A purple orb appeared in his hand, and from it he called forth a portal. Out from the purple mesh stepped a skeletal horse, with fire for a mane and tail. Sheffield recognized him.

"That's the horse from the soul cairn, isn't it? He kept running along when I was there to get the Elder scroll."

Ysmir nodded again, and bent down to lift up his little summoner. He set her down in front of him, and then straddled Arvak. The skeletal horse was ever silent, but lovingly whipped the dragonborn in the face with his long tail. Fortunately for Ysmir's visage, the flames were Illusory in nature.

He turned the horse to face the open gate, and turned towards his new ally/almost-friend/not very bad person.

"You'll see me again, Sheffield. And you should know, I want you to release Serana too. If she has not been let free in three weeks' time, I will come back here and burn the island to the ground."

Before Sheffield could answer, he rode out, facing the now rising and normal sun.

As the Vampire Lord transformed into a swarm of bats and fled the sun's rays, the being who had been watching the exchange between the two Champions snickered to itself. It was always fun to mess with people, but it had a sneaking suspicion that this mess was going to be the funniest since it made Galmar Stonefist fall in love with a Thalmor captain, and vice versa. The resulting infighting had destroyed the Stormcloaks in that timeline, but there were plenty of others where they had actually won their war.

It had lived through many un-lives, as well as many lives. It had spun many webs, and cleared up just as many. It had seen thousands of Nirns, but this was the first time it had seen this world. That excited it, and drove it to seek out as many possibilities as possible. Speaking of which, it had to get going.

The being disappeared from the balcony where it had been standing in a puff of yellow smoke, leaving behind only a faint aroma of molten Eidar cheese.

 **Author's comments:**

 **Well, well, that was very long! This chapter, whilst having an anticlimactic ending to a previously good fight, is also the longest chapter I've written for this fiction so far. It took me a bloody long time, I know, but I've been having many, many national tests and I MAY OR MAY NOT NEED SOME ENCOURAGEMENT ONCE IN A WHILE…**

 **Ah, whatever, but we have some EASTER EGGS!**

 **There is one in this chapter, when Sheffield is described properly for the first time. The wording may be similar to a semi-famous piece by a semi-famous comedian, and I want the comedian and the piece it's in.**

 **Then, we have an older challenge:**

 **We have all met Sheffield by now, but who is she? Review, and the one that's closest to the truth can have an Honorary mention and some influence. This is much easier this time around, so I expect a few answers at least.**

 **Also, we have an older Easter egg:**

 **In chapter nineteen, Ysmir has some philosophical ways to look at power. Another character also mentions something very close to this. I want the name and title of the character, the book series he appears (briefly) in and the name of the main character. A hint: the main character has red hair.**


	25. Chapter 25: Skin as white as snow

**7:12: And when the world shall listen, and when the world shall see, and when the world remembers…**

 **7:8: And so the author awoke, and all before him trembled, for he wielded emotion like a sword, and inked paper was his shield. He hid behind this armour of stories, always hoping someone would come close enough to read it.**

 **Yeah, Yeah, I'm sorry about them delays. It's been tough, guys, tests around every corner and little time for indulgences. Anyways, this should be the last of them for a time, and so I have decided to work a little on this chapter.**

 **It has come to my attention that people dislike my threats over the Easter eggs. I understand, and am sorry. I suppose I just wanted to give you another reason to actually read the story, not just glance it over.**

 **Either way, I'll stop.**

 **It has nothing to do with me liking you or anything…**

Chapter twenty-five: Skin as white as snow

Captain Porco had been soundly dreaming of Varangian mead with a smile on his lips when First mate Evangio started hammering on the door. He rose from his bed like a corpse which had been marinated in some strong liquor, clothed himself swiftly and proceeded to slam open his cabin door to try and inflict some harm to his second in command for waking him.

Evangio, with the graze that comes from performing an act many times, stepped out of the way of the door and addressed his captain.

"Captain Porco, sir, two of the passengers are back, and urging us to set sail as soon as possible!"

The tired Porco did not quite get why the man before him was so shaken.

"Set _Propeller,_ First mate, we don't have any sails. Now what's this about going already? Where are they?"

"On deck, sir, and I strongly suggest you come up as well."

Porco grumbled fiercely on his way to his former and future passengers. Why in the world would they come back this late? Or was it perchance early? He glanced at the enchanted timepiece, which hung by his side, and found it to be around the fifth hour in the morning.

When he opened the hatch and climbed a ladder up on deck, he saw Ysmir standing by the mooring rope, grasping a ball of flame in his right hand with young Louise slung over his left shoulder like a sack of flour. He walked up to them seeking an explanation.

Ysmir was prepared to burn the rope which connected them to the docking tower, if it would have gotten them off the island quicker. They needed to get out of here as soon as possible, and fetch many ships to evacuate the refugees who were hiding in the woods. The _North Wind_ could carry a few, perhaps, but it would be a better use of their time to get to Tristain as quickly as possible. Partly because the refugees might be starving, and partly because he didn't like the idea of staying in the domain of a Vampire Lord who could blot out the sun and had several lesser vampires to guard her.

Ysmir would have continued with his rushing thoughts of escape and help-sending, had Porco not given him a light bump on his free shoulder using the butt of a musket. He lowered his head to the Captain's level, and prepared to answer some questions.

Porco was tired, hung over, confused and at least somewhat worried. His voice reflected the two first qualities.

"What in Brimir's name happened to you two, and where is the guy who came with you?"

As Ysmir explained, Porco gradually dropped his unfriendly attitude for a thousand yard stare, and the colour slowly but surely dropped from his face. This was serious.

He turned around, walked over to the Alarm bell, and rang it thrice.

Within forty seconds the crew was assembled on deck, and Porco told them exactly what Ysmir had told him. Undead mythological monstrosities or not, Porco knew he could trust his crew explicitly.

Immediately after his announcement regarding why the sun had supposedly been red until right before setting a few hours ago, he turned to his quartermaster. Eirik was a grizzled old sailor hailing from Varangia. His previously blonde hair had long since turned white, but he maintained the neatly braided beard he had possessed as a young soldier, though nowadays he was and swore like a sailor. Porco had met him a decade ago, in a port town in southern Romalia, where he had stumbled into the first pub he saw with the only ambition of getting thoroughly shitfaced in the short time they were in port.

Eirik had been busy doing the exact same thing, and had exhausted the entire supply of anything stronger than milk.

Following the resulting brawl, Eirik had earned himself a place on the _North wind_ as the quartermaster and sour old-timer he was today.

Porco ordered him to weigh the anchor, and he answered.

"For the eighteenth gods-damned time this month, Cap'n, WE DON'T HAVE A FUCKING ANCHOR."

 _Time skip!_

Ysmir and Louise walked out of the royal palace, gazing over Tristania. The city was bathing in sunlight, and peasant and noble alike were enjoying the promise of a warm summer.

Louise was rubbing her right shoulder. Though she had managed to heal it before she would have bled out, Ysmir had neglected to mention one thing about restoration magic. No matter how skilled the healer, and no matter what spell was used, the wound would always leave a scar. That scar ached, and she had a sneaking suspicion that this was the kind of ache that never really went away. Still, it was a good alternative to having a big hole in her shoulder.

She thought back to the completion of their mission; giving Princess Henrietta the information she needed to assess the situation, as well as reporting that the threatening letters had been reduced to a pile of ash, and reassuring her Majesty that her beloved cousin was safe.

All in all, a successful mission. They had experienced only one casualty, Wardes, and neither the princess nor the cardinal were very keen on going back to retrieve a traitor. Several airships of the heavy variety were leaving docks around the kingdom though, but with the objective to save as many refugees as possible from the floating island now infested and ruled by vampires.

She was shaken out of her recollection of the previous events by Ysmir's grumbling. He had been quiet since the princess had dismissed them, only not speaking with a sour tone to his voice.

"This is what I get for giving you the guild armour… no rewards for a dangerous quest… not even a few coins… oh no, this needs to be absolutely secret…"

Louise supressed a giggle at his childish mindset. Maybe a life of questing and adventuring had shaped his psyche into something like an addict; do something, expect instant reward. She did not quite agree with him, but that was mostly because of the respect she held for the princess. They had been close friends once, and after Louise was sent to the academy they had maintained their relationship through letter writing.

She looked out over Tristania. The city was as beautiful as ever in the evening sun. She felt happy. Not only had she been one of three to be chosen for a mission by the princess, but she had actually contributed to the cause and learned from the experience. She imagined this must have been how her mother had felt when she had helped the current queen in her youth.

Still, happy or not, she felt rather… sick. Weak, slightly dizzy.

She brushed it off as the result of the blood loss she had experienced when she was pierced by a giant icicle, and continued walking down the sunlit steps of the palace.

They had a long road ahead of them.

 _Time skip!_

Professor Jean Colbert, First Academy Protector and Prime fire scholar, as well as the strongest fire mage currently alive in Tristain, was extremely and utterly bored. He was standing atop the tower of Void, its dark roof allowing him to blend in with the darkness and watch for any danger. Though it was a standard academy policy that one teacher should keep watch every night, many simply cast a Farsight spell directed to the main gate, set it to alert them should anything notable approach, and went back to bed. Colbert, on the other hand, had seen combat, and he could not rest easy when he was supposed to keep watch. Thus, he usually spent his shift outside, scanning the surroundings for threats magical and mundane. He technically had several academy guards as backup, but they were content with patrolling the walkways as quickly as possible. They too had warm beds, after all.

This particular night seemed like any other. No threat had ever appeared on his watch, thank founder, but he was still prepared for the worst. That way, should anything happen it would either be expected, or a pleasant surprise.

The wind was freezing, but Jean was not a square-class fire mage for nothing. Scholars had known for many centuries that fire mages possessed a higher body temperature than others, and that heat scaled with their magical strength. Colbert could probably have undressed completely, sat down in a pile of snow, and still felt quite comfortable. That had been very beneficial when he had been a battlemage.

In war, soldiers often caught many different kinds of diseases. Water mages rarely joined the army, so there were generally not enough healers to take care of the sick. For some reason, though, fire mages very rarely fell ill. It was like the illnesses feared their high body temperatures. Colbert had actually been planning to research this phenomenon for a long time, but he had not been able to gather enough volunteers to be infected with a few deadly illnesses, and then be magically heated up until the disease was gone.

It was logical, he supposed. Very few were happy to potentially sacrifice their lives for the good of everyone else.

He suddenly felt a disturbance in the Magical Force surrounding the academy. Someone was heading there, and they were coming quickly.

Jean levitated down to stand on the wall above the big gate, and waited. It took almost twenty seconds for him to spot the potential intruder.

On the cobblestoned road leading up to the gate of the academy, a horse with two riders approached. Its frame was dark and skeletal, and purplish fire burned in its mane, tail and eyes. The sight was enough to cause a flashback to a certain spell Colbert had seen in the army. Devil's Flame, it had been called, and this horse certainly looked like it could be ridden by a devil.

He was chanting the words to summon his namesake Flame Wyrm before he could stop himself. Fortunately, he stopped when he recognized the armour of the man riding the horse. It looked demonic, sure, but he knew the man in it.

He levitated down, and opened the gate.

Ysmir rode through, jumped off the horse, and allowed Colbert to see the second rider. Young Louise had been sitting right behind her familiar, and his considerable frame had blocked hers. She remained sitting when he jumped off, and slumped over, obviously sleeping. Ysmir removed his helmet, smiling widely, and greeted his friend.

It was at that time Louise fell off the horse, and slumped to the ground, face as pale as snow.

 **Author's comments:**

 **Well, that might be a bit short, but I'm actually doing something completely new here. Since Sheffield was avoided, for now at least, I needed something else to threaten the balance.**

 **What better than this?**

 **There is only one Easter egg in this chapter:**

 **In Colbert's part of the chapter, a well-known phrase is used. Where is it from and who used it originally?**

 **We have a few old ones as well:**

 **There is one in chapter twenty-four, when Sheffield is described properly for the first time. The wording may be similar to a semi-famous piece by a semi-famous comedian, and I want the comedian and the piece it's in.**

 **In chapter nineteen, Ysmir has some philosophical ways to look at power. Another character also mentions something very close to this. I want the name and title of the character, the book series he appears (briefly) in and the name of the main character. A hint: the main character has red hair.**

 **Then, we have an older challenge:**

 **We have all met Sheffield by now, but who is she? Review, and the one that's closest to the truth can have an Honorary mention and some influence. This is much easier this time around, so I expect a few answers at least.**

 **And thus, I bid you all goodbye.**

 **Ossa out!**


	26. Chapter 26: When in Rome

**Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're my only…**

 **Oh. We have company. Go hide in a corner, R2.**

 **Welcome back, friends and foes, fellow aspiring writers or just connoisseurs of literature. 'Tis I, Ossa, Deceiver of Canadians and Apprentice of Words. Do you remember the easy challenge from last time? I think you can guess who solved it first.**

 **If you thought Rotciv557, congrats. Have a cookie and some republic credits.**

 **This chapter might be slightly more delayed than even the others. I am breaking new ground here, after all. But then again, you shouldn't care about that. LOUISE IS IN DANGER!**

Chapter twenty-six: When in Rome…

In less than three minutes from the collapse of his student, Professor Jean Colbert was running towards the infirmary ward with said student suspended in mid-air behind him. Ysmir was doing his best to help, running ahead with tremendous speed to open every door and wake every nurse, but in Colbert's eyes it was not looking good. Louise had been pale when she arrived, but now she looked like a corpse, with every breath coming slower than the last.

He finally leapt through the door to the infirmary, cursing his past self who had reasoned that since he could fly, he needn't be able to run very far. The past self had forgotten about its inability to levitate two objects at once.

He sank into the corner, breathing heavily and coughing, as the recently awoken nurses took over. They moved Louise to one of their beds, and began applying healing magics to try and diagnose her. Ysmir was standing opposite from Colbert, not tired in the slightest but worried out of his skin. He was confused as well, unfamiliar with what sicknesses might exist in this strange land, and deeply regretted not bringing any Potions of Cure Disease with him. He had not needed one in many years, and so he had simply stopped bringing them. It had meant slightly more room for loot, but now he could have traded all potions in the world for one of that kind.

He had been attacked by a few vampires right before he reached the Sarethi farm, hence why he had an ample supply of Vampire dust, and he had cleared out a hive of Falmer a few hours before, where he had gotten some Chaurus eggs, but aside from a few roadside plants that was the extent of his alchemical inventory. He was a mediocre alchemist with access to high quality ingredients, and usually bought most of his potions from professionals.

Louise suddenly froze on the bed. The nurses checked her pulse, and found nothing. A blanket of deathly silence fell upon everyone in the room. Ysmir, analysing the situation far too quickly for his own good, fell to his knees with a whimper. Only then did most of the others realize that it was pitch black outside, and that one of the students they saw every day had died before them.

They all drew back from the corpse, with Ysmir being the notable exception. He got up from his knees, and for once he didn't tower over everyone. It was like his aura had shrunk, and taken his once mighty frame with it. He grabbed a chain that hung around his neck, and produced a plethora of amulets. With cold eyes he chose one, a red orb surrounded by an eight-pointed star.

His voice held no life, but his frame and aura seemed to fill the entire room once again when he spoke.

"Come to me, Arkay, for without you, there is neither breath nor beginning, nor can any man live, love, or learn without the spark of your spirit."

His voice, and the words he said, in hindsight seemed a tiny bit more powerful when the corpse opened her eyes.

Each and every one in the room drew back from the bed at the sight of the yellow light pulsating in Louise's eyes, save for Ysmir, who quickly hid away his amulet for fear of being struck down in his ignorance.

Louise slowly sat up, looking at the people around her, who were staring dumbstruck at this miracle. Her yellow gaze lingered just a bit longer on her familiar, who looked like he had received a big pot of gold from nowhere; happy, yet worried at the future consequences.

"Everybody except me and Colbert, get out."

Several of the nurses actually had to stop themselves from obeying instantly. There was something about the man, a layer to his voice, that almost screamed authority. The Prime Healer, a stout woman who regularly battled budget cuts by verbally abusing the headmaster, stood her ground and rallied her nurses.

"You can't throw us out o' here, ye numbnut! This ain't a classroom, this is the infirmary ward, and we work here!"

Ysmir took one look at her, and spoke two words.

" **FAAS RU!"**

In seconds, the nursing staff fled.

Colbert had to stop himself from taking notes. He had obviously witnessed a powerful spell, if it required an incantation from the man who used all of his other magics without such sounds. The effect was also rather interesting: spells affecting the mind were considered lost to the centuries, only known to be possessed by Founder Brimir.

Ysmir drew forth curtains to cover the big windows, locked and checked the door, and then walked up to Louise. Colbert stood right beside him, eager to understand what had happened.

"It's all my fault." Ysmir said. "If I had recognized the symptoms sooner, you could have been cured before it ran its course. I'm sorry."

"Wait now," Louise answered, her voice confused and oddly smoother than ever before. "What happened? The last I remember is walking out of the palace."

Ysmir answered her with a question of his own. "What do you know of vampires, Louise?"

"Next to nothing, only stories and hearsay."

"What about you, Professor?"

Colbert searched the deep corners of his mind, and retold what he found. "I have heard that vampires are stronger and quicker than any mortal, that they can use Spirit magic, and many other myths. I have yet to meet one, though."

Ysmir shook his head, not dismissive but rather sullen.

"I know next to nothing about this world. I have been here for a grand total of less than two weeks. It seems to me that the local vampires are different from the ones we fought, who came from my realm."

Colbert perked up at the revelation that Ysmir was, in fact, from another realm. He had theorized it, of course, but it still sounded strange. His train of thought was interrupted by Louise.

"Different how?"

Ysmir flexed his hand, and a ball of sunlight appeared. His voice was monotone as he started his lecture.

"Porphyric Hemophilia, Sanguinare Vampiris, Noxiphilic Sanguivora... many are the diseases that are collectively bundled up and called vampirism. All are slightly different, but share a few common traits. They can be transmitted by spells and weapons wielded by vampires, and after roughly seventy-two hours the victim dies, and is reanimated as a vampire themselves. Once fully formed, it is extremely difficult to remove. It seems you have been infected, Louise. If you feel over your heart, you will find no pulse. Your body is, in essence, dead, kept alive by the blood of mortals. Speaking of blood, do you feel thirsty?"

Louise was suddenly aware of a burning, parched throat, and nodded without thinking.

Without skipping a beat, Ysmir retrieved a small bottle from a shelf. It had contained fluid once, but it had long since evaporated. He removed his gauntlet and ran his skinning knife over his palm. He collected roughly three mouthfuls of blood, then healed himself and handed the bottle to Louise.

Louise's eyes glazed over when she saw the red liquid. She took the bottle almost greedily, and put it to her lips.

Her expression changed entirely when she caught a whiff of the smell. She threw the bottle to the wall with more strength the she should have been able to muster, then turned back to glare at Ysmir, who was muttering a curse under his breath.

"What did you do?! Did you poison it?! It reeks of wet dog!"

Ysmir glared right back at her.

"No, I was trying to save you! There are very few ways of curing vampirism, and I just offered one to you!"

"Who says I want to be ´saved´? I feel amazing! I feel strong, powerful… I could defeat all of my enemies with this!"

Colbert was staring at his former student. She looked monstrous. Her face was contorted in a screech, and he could see her four canine teeth had become longer and sharper. She looked, and sounded, so unlike the girl he knew. It was like something had taken over her thoughts, and so he tried to talk her out of it.

"Louise, listen to yourself! Do you really wish to become a monster? To feed on the innocent, and live in fear of the sun? What would your mother say?"

Ysmir and Louise were both taken aback at the sudden outburst from the normally calm teacher, and it seemed to do the trick. Ysmir stepped back slightly shameful, though.

"When you put it that way, my solution would just replace the problem. The new condition would be harder to cure, too, so perhaps we should seek another way."

Louise nodded in disgust at the memory of the horrid smell of Ysmir's blood, and then found herself staring at Professor Colbert. His blood might taste better…

Ysmir caught her in mid-air as she leapt for Jean's throat. As he held her down to the bed, he called out to the surprised teacher.

"QUICKLY! Tap some of your blood! Use my knife!"

"I DON'T QUITE SEE HOW TAPPING MY BLOOD WILL HELP THE SITUATION!" Colbert called back. Nevertheless, he picked up a tankard from a nearby table and levitated Ysmir's knife toward him.

"She's bloodstarved, and if we don't give her something she might well go on a rampage! Now hurry, before she starts using magic!"

Colbert, with hands only shaking slightly, tapped a decilitre or two of his blood into the tankard, and reached out to Ysmir. The big Nord took a pillowcase from a nearby bed, dipped it in the blood, and threw it at the vampire.

The result was impressive. Louise managed to squeeze out nearly all of the blood in the fabric, and then, her thirst slightly sated, moved on to the tankard. With every drop of blood consumed, her skin turned closer to her normal colour, rather than the ashy paleness she had gained earlier. Her canines retracted, until they were only slightly longer than normal, and the glow in her eyes faded until it was only barely detectable.

She set the cup down, and tried to sigh. It proved difficult, as she had not breathed beforehand. She suddenly looked up at the other two, fear and sadness in her eyes.

"Oh, Founder, I nearly attacked someone… I am so sorry, professor! It was like a fog settled over my head, like…"

Ysmir waved her off, and Professor Colbert nodded assuringly.

"Don't worry about that, but now you must see the negative sides of this condition," Ysmir said, indicating the windows. "And that's not even counting how the sun will burn you! We need to find a cure, and we need to find it quickly. For how long can she be excused of school?"

The last question was directed to Colbert, who thought about it.

"Well, considering she was called away indefinitely by the princess herself, I suppose just that, indefinitely. She will have to read up to everything we have studied whilst she was away, though…"

Louise cut him off. "I have already read all material we are scheduled to go through up to and including third year. It's the magic I'm behind in, not the theory."

Ysmir grinned a wolfish grin, which both the vampire and the battlemage found unsettling. "Good, then. We have some time on our hands, a goal, and a difficult task. I say we have a questline before us."

Neither of the others bothered questioning his attitude to the matter. Louise, being more familiar with the man, asked a good question.

"What's our first objective?"

Ysmir's grin shrank slightly as he pondered the quandary.

"Well, since I'm no good conjurer with no black soul gems, that approach is out. We could try to summon a Daedric Prince, I imagine Vile might be up for the job, but he'd probably kill you and call you cured. No, our best solution lies with the local vampires.

We need to find a Coven."

 **Author's comments:**

 **It might be short, I dunno, and it might be stunted, but I want to get this out now. Otherwise I'll just get busy with the Biology test I have tomorrow, and then everything will be put on hold for Nine Divines know how long…**

 **Either way, here's an easy CHALLENGE!**

 **In the latter half of the chapter, a phrase is mentioned that is very close to something said by a well-known and well-memed group. I want the phrase, the group and the circumstances when they say it.**

 **We have a few old Easter eggs as well:**

 **There is one in chapter twenty-four, when Sheffield is described properly for the first time. The wording may be similar to a semi-famous piece by a semi-famous comedian, and I want the comedian and the piece it's in.**

 **In chapter nineteen, Ysmir has some philosophical ways to look at power. Another character also mentions something very close to this. I want the name and title of the character, the book series he appears (briefly) in and the name of the main character. A hint: the main character IS NAMED KVOTHE.**

 **Actually, there used to be an old challenge here, but I removed it. I feel that even if someone got it right, I wouldn't be able to mention it since it would spoil Sheffield's backstory. She's going to appear a lot more.**

 **And until next time, I bid you all goodbye.**

 **Ossa away!**


	27. Chapter 27: Do as the Romans do

**In light of recent events, I am forced to address the worries of several of my reasonably concerned readers: no, Twilight isn't happening.**

 **To all others, who have no idea of what I'm talking about, some readers thought that since we had a young woman transformed into a vampire I would go the twilight route and make them into disco balls with six-packs. No worries, we are going darker than the FBI.**

 **On a totally unrelated note, no HONORARY MENTIONS yet. Keep searching, little ones!**

 **NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE A Q &A, JUST SO YOU KNOW.**

 **Now then, where were we? Or rather, where can you find a coven?**

Chapter twenty-seven: …Do as the Romans do

Colbert and Louise were both directing questioning glances at Ysmir, who failed to register that fact. Louise spoke up first, uncertainty in her voice.

"Wait now, why do think there actually are vampires in Halkeginia, other than the ones from your home?"

Ysmir froze slightly, and stiffly turned around to face the others.

"Say, Louise, do you remember when we arrived at the royal palace, and I got lost looking for a lavatory?"

Louise nodded; she remembered the occurrence very vividly.

"Well, whilst I was wandering around in what I assume were the lower parts of the palace, I was getting pretty desperate, since I knew we were going to get a quest and I might miss it if I couldn't find my way up. So I may or may not have used a lovely little spell by the name of Detect Life, just to find someone to ask for the way."

Both Colbert and Louise nodded for him to continue.

"I spotted someone coming toward me quickly, who turned out to be Wardes, but the spell stretched far enough that I saw several auras roughly thirty meters underground. Nothing too strange there, I just thought they were beggars hiding out in the sewers, but they had this odd glow to them. Like they were dying perpetually. My best guess is that they were infected with vampirism, but that it hadn't fully bloomed yet. Of course, they might have been nothing but lepers."

"It's a bit of a stretch, yes, but it's the best lead we've got." Louise said, and Colbert issued a worried half smile at the thought of his friend and student going hunting for potential lepers.

"Well, I agree that you should pursue that lead, but I have a few inventions that you may find useful. Would you like to accompany me to my workshop?"

 _Time skip!_

Colbert slammed a box down on the table, causing both vampire and familiar to jump slightly. He dug inside it, and brought forth an unlit torch.

He set it down on the table, blissfully unaware of the confused stares he was receiving. He dug inside the box once more, and retrieved a wide-brimmed hat made of dark leather. After setting it down next to the torch, he finally found something slightly impressive-looking: a round flask of thick glass containing a yellow and opaque liquid.

After lifting the box back to its place on a shelf, next to another box with _Time travel stuff_ written upon it, he went back to the table and sat down opposite Louise and Ysmir, lining up the three items before him. He picked up the bottle, letting the luminescent crystal lighting up the room send a few rays through it. A wide array of colourful specks of lights reflected onto the walls, and he quickly covered it with a cloth, and then put it in a small bag which he handed to Ysmir.

"I created this fluid by mistake when I was trying to create better fuel for my steam engine. It has the power to store sunlight, and release it when any form of magic affects it. I have yet to test it with your spells, Ysmir, but I should think it will work. If you are going up against vampires, it might be useful."

The others nodded thankfully, impressed with the ingenuity of the professor, using a failed experiment to accomplish something else. Colbert, on the other hand, picked up the torch. As he carefully rotated it in his hands, Ysmir and Louise could see a number of magical runes inscribed on it.

"These runes collect the majority of the heat and gasses created by the flame of the torch, and transmute it into more wood, thus leaving only light and a little warmth. Once lit, it will stay lit for a very long time."

Louise raised her hand. "For how long, professor?"

Colbert scratched his balding head. "I don't quite know. In optimal conditions, meaning little wind and plenty of ambient heat, it lasted for three days and nights with no significant decay. After that, I fell asleep and it managed to set fire to my robes, which activated the ancient extinguishing spell still present in this part of the academy. It solidified the moisture in the air, and showered both me and the testing torch in snow."

As he talked, he handed the torch over to Ysmir, who put it in his backpack. Colbert then, almost sentimentally, picked up the hat. It was worn, yes, but the black leather had some sort of durability enchantment that held it together. He turned it over, stroke his hand over the leather, and then abruptly placed the hat on Louise's head.

Louise protested. "Wait, wait, what's with this thing then? Does it explode when near frogs? Can it turn into a deadly throwing weapon?"

Colbert's face turned blank. "No, no, nothing like that. I just figured that if you would be burned by the sun, you might want a wide hat to protect your face."

 _Time skip!_

They had been riding towards Tristania through the night, and just as the sun started to peek over the mountains in the east they entered an inn located in the outskirts of town. The establishment was called _the Drunken Farmer,_ or something of the like, judging from the archaic pictogram of a sign hanging over the door. The building itself made one think of something a clever man had designed, but a fool had built: the walls were slightly tilted, the floorboards coloured in the results of decades of drunken patrons having slightly too much to drink, and the roof hung down a little too much to be comfortable. Nevertheless, Louise enjoyed it.

The room smelled of newly baked bread, despite the stained floor, and the relative darkness felt rather comfortable for her eyes. In the middle of the room was a hearth nearly half as big as her bed, and a young woman dressed in a grey tunic and an apron was trying to tempt the embers of yesterday with tinder and woodshavings to once again light up the room properly. She managed to coax forth a flame just as Ysmir and Louise entered the building, and quickly fed it a few larger pieces of firewood to grow it. She then took a quick look at her guests, and disappeared behind a door which presumably led to the kitchens. A moment later, a bearded man emerged from the very same door and installed himself behind the bar counter. He stroked his black beard as the two visitors approached him, and spoke once they were a few steps away.

"Welcome, welcome, dear customers. What can I do for you? Breakfast perhaps, or maybe lodgings?"

Ysmir answered him, before Louise would become tempted to take his offer of breakfast the wrong way.

"Breakfast would be nice, if you could provide us with some packed provisions that would be even better. We need lodgings too, but I would say food takes priority."

The innkeeper opened a shutter to what Louise presumed was the kitchen, and called into it. "Gwyn, make a few sandwiches, would ya? Guests are going out explorin'."

He closed the hatch and turned around, fumbling with something under the counter. "One or two rooms?"

"One room, with two beds."

The innkeeper nodded, and placed a rusty iron key in the counter. "Let's see here… one room, two beds, packed provisions, breakfast… how long will you be staying?"

Ysmir thought about that one, and decided to be pessimistic. "A week, at least to begin with. What's the cost?"

The innkeeper retrieved from under the counter a thick book, bound in leather, and chained to the floor. "That'd be one hundred and seventy-five New Gold, and I would ask you to write your name in the guest ledger. You'll have room five."

Louise was about to write her name with the quill the innkeeper handed them, but Ysmir gave her a cautionary look. She realized that they might need to go undercover, as her mother used to put it in her anecdotes of her youth. She handed the quill to Ysmir, who wrote a short name, decidedly not _Ysmir_. He managed to order a tankard of mead from the innkeeper before they sat down by a table waiting for their provisions and breakfast to arrive. Louise suddenly realized something, and whispered to her familiar.

"Wait, what did you pay him with? You don't have any New Gold, we only use that currency in Halkeginia!"

Ysmir smiled reassuringly. "What do you think I am, stupid? I sold off some of my loot stash the last time we were in town, and they payed me with New Gold. Apparently gems are very expensive here."

Louise looked slightly calmer, but then another detail struck her. "Well, what did you write in the ledger?"

Ysmir dropped the smile for a respectful expression, just as the mead and food arrived. He grabbed the tankard and drank deeply from it, and stared off into the wall.

"The name of a Legend."

 _Time skip!_

The moon cast an eerie bluish light over the city of Tristania, and the few wanderers out could have been easily mistaken for ghosts. It was dark, but even Ysmir could see relatively clearly without having to light the torch Colbert had given them. They had been patrolling the streets for almost three hours now, looking for any suspicious figures that might know of any undead monstrosities living in the city. Those three hours had not yielded any success. Very few people were out at night, and the city guard were more than lax with patrolling the streets. For the capital of a reasonably prosperous land, the security was terrible.

The architecture reminded him of Solitude, but the many dark alleyways and the myriad of side streets was more of a callback to Windhelm. This was definitely an old city, and with the numerous dark hidey-holes and escape routes it would have made the perfect home for a vampire coven. And yet, there were no signs of any undead present, nor any entrance to the sewer system were they were likely to hide out.

He was just about to call off the search for the night when Louise dove from a rooftop, vaulted in the air and landed with nary a sound in front of him. She had been exploring her newfound agility and stealth, and now her eyes glowed with excitement.

"I was following a man in a hooded cape, and he must not have noticed me, because he dove into the well in the middle of a market square!"

Ysmir grinned wildly, and followed the girl as they sprinted several hundred meters to an open area with several stalls standing around a decrepit well. He was just about to cast Detect Life, when several hooded shapes emerged seemingly out of thin air. Ysmir hadn't smelled them, but he needed only look at the way they moved to be certain his worries were true. They moved like cats, stealthy and yet ready to pounce. These were vampires, and several of them had mortals standing behind them. Thralls, probably. Louise positioned herself with her back against his back, and waited. After what felt like close to a minute, another shape stepped forth from nowhere. He, for it was most definitely a he, held himself differently; less like a predator, and more like a dignified regent. His voice sounded young, but then again, so had Serana's.

"Who are you, who dares intrude on our territory?!"

Ysmir drew breath to answer, but the vampire waved his hand and he found himself silent.

"I was not talking to you, meat." He indicated towards Louise, who felt appraised the moment the man laid eyes upon her. "What are you doing here, and where is your coven?"

Ysmir was many things, but humble was usually not one of them. He had saved the world from destruction, and now a simple vampire tried to silence him?

That would not do. If they were to get a cure from these cretins, they would need RESPECT.

Before Louise had a chance to speak, he called forth a spell he had learned a long time ago from one of the more magically inclined members of the Dawnguard. The silencing spell cast by the vampire might prevent him from speaking and using his Thu'um, but it could do nothing to prevent him from doing _this._

Cyan and yellow orbs glowed in both his palms, and as he shoved them together in a fluid motion they became one. He released the ball of energy, and with great velocity it hit the leading vampire square in the chest. He released a squawk of indignation and surprise before the spell took hold, and magical fear distorted his mind. With very little ceremony, he disappeared into thin air, reappeared a few meters away, and dove headfirst into the well. The other vampires, uncertain of what happened, retreated as well, though not quite so hurriedly.

Louise stared at him, and he extinguished the spell from his palms and started walking away towards _the Drunken Farmer_ inn. Louise scrambled after him, asking the first question she could think of.

"What was that spell?"

Ysmir laughed a little, and answered.

"I learnt it a long time ago from a vampire hunter. It is called Turn Greater Undead, and it induces a magical fear on whatever undead is struck by it.

It was necessary, I assure you. If these vampires are the least like the ones from my home, they would have either killed you for trespassing into their territory or forced you to join them. This way, we have an advantage when it is time to negotiate."

Louise nodded, slightly taken aback, and they continued on the road to shelter and beds.

Neither noticed the dark shape following them from the rooftops.

 **Author's Comments:**

 **Well, well, that might have taken me a ridiculous amount of time and rewriting, but I am pretty happy with it! The ending might be a little forced, but I truly feel the dragonborn would have reacted that way when ignored.**

 **Either way, we have a few EASTER EGGS, two in this chapter:**

 **Number one: In the first half of the chapter, there is a nod to a popular TV show featuring an alcoholic scientist and his useless grandson. Where it and what is it referencing?**

 **Number two: almost directly after the first one we get a nod to a popular Bond villain. What is similar and who is he?**

 **There are a few old ones, too:**

 **In the latter half of chapter 26, a phrase is mentioned that is very close to something said by a well-known and well-memed group. I want the phrase, the group and the circumstances when they say it.**

 **There is one in chapter twenty-four, when Sheffield is described properly for the first time. The wording may be similar to a semi-famous piece by a semi-famous comedian, and I want the comedian and the piece it's in. A hint: weather.**

 **In chapter nineteen, Ysmir has some philosophical ways to look at power. Another character also mentions something very close to this. I want the name and title of the character, the book series he appears (briefly) in and the name of the main character. A hint: the main character IS NAMED KVOTHE.**

 **And with all of that, I bid you all adieu.**

 **Ossa out!**


	28. Chapter 28: Dreams

**A Quick Announcement:**

 **We are cancelling the regularly scheduled Q &A for something more exciting due to lack of questions and/or interesting reviews. In other words, y'all are getting a new proper chapter instead of some boring chat-chapter!**

 **In other news, summer break is coming up for me! This** ** _should_** **mean more frequent updates, but then again I have a summer job planned, so don't get too excited.**

 **Either way, let's get back to it.**

 **An unnamed Guest was the first to recognize the Bond reference: we're talking about Oddjob and his deceptively deadly headwear. HONORARY MENTION to you, wherever and whoever you may be.**

 **Now then. We had just scared a few vampires?**

Chapter Twenty-eight: Dreams

Ysmir felt much calmer once they reached the _Drunken Farmer_. Even if it was in another plane of existence than his home, there was only so many ways to build an inn. The barkeep, who they had learned was named Bernard, was nowhere to be seen, and so they quietly walked up a few rickety stairs to the corridor which held most of the bedrooms. Summer had set in properly now, meaning travellers usually passed most of the inns and preferred to make camp in the wilderness under the stars, saving a bit of gold as they did so.

Ysmir found the practice strange, with good reason. Only an idiot, or overly confident mercenary, slept in the wilds of Skyrim if they could avoid it. Bandits, predators, Deadra worshippers and simple cutthroats made the wilderness dangerous, but it seemed Tristain had less problems of that sort. No one had even approached them during their journey from and back to the Capital.

After finding and entering their room, the two of them lay down in their respective beds. Ysmir fished up a small green bottle of Stamina poison from his backpack, and removed his pauldrons and helmet whilst keeping the rest of his armour on. One never knew what might happen during sleep; he had heard from Babette that several members of the Brotherhood were initially abducted from their beds. After downing the poison he drifted off to the land of the dreaming, and Louise lay awake and immovable beside him. She had been having trouble sleeping since the assignment in Albion, most likely due to her illness and subsequent death, and even Ysmir's method of alchemically induced unconsciousness had not worked. She had found a solution, however.

Louise climbed silently out of her bed, aided by vampiric stealth. After making sure that Ysmir was sleeping properly, she approached a decently sized wooden chest which had been standing in a corner when they got the room. She opened the container, moved the bedclothes and spare pillows in it out of the way, and lay down inside it, closing the lid as she did so. Whilst she was convinced a proper coffin would be even better, this would do in the meantime.

Louise relaxed once she felt safe in her chest, and drifted off into a sleep-like trance. Surprisingly, she dreamt.

She was standing at the top of a snow-peaked mountain, overlooking the land below. She turned around before she heard the wingbeats of the ancient, grey-scaled dragon. She surprised herself with not being scared, instead feeling like this had already happened.

The dragon spoke, but she could not hear the words it said. She felt her mouth moving, but heard several voices speaking alongside her own, each saying something different. The dragon seemed to understand her, though, and conjured up a wall of flame with an incantation of merely three words. The fire washed over her, and suddenly she was somewhere else.

* * *

She saw the Traitor before her, standing much too confidently on the shoulder of the giant statue he had just blinded. He lifted his dwarven blade and charged, and she found herself vaulting off the wall to meet him, her trademark ebony clashing against dwemer metal as he parried her attack. The Traitor cheated, as she had known he would, and called on the power of the Key to blast her away, sending her weapons flying off into the corner of the gigantic chamber. He was revelling in his forbidden power, gloating at her, walking up to her unmoving body to finish the job he had started in Snow Veil Sanctum.

She summoned up the last of her strength, and stepped into the void, emerging behind the Traitor. He might have disarmed her, but she was never entirely without weapons. Her claws were unsheathed in an instant, and she drove the black one on her right middle finger into the Traitor's jugular vein. His blood stained her fur red, and she decided right then and there to keep dyeing it like that.

As water cascaded down from the ceiling of the chamber, she was suddenly somewhere else.

* * *

The Fort was burning, ruined banners dotting the walls and soot clinging to every surface. She was walking through the embers, heading towards the Dead Drop falls where the last of the Dawnguard were holed up, determined to outlast their undead attackers. She admired their tenacity, but knew that they would ultimately die like their peers. After all, mortals always did. She was doing them a kindness, finishing them off quickly. At least, that was what she had kept telling herself as she slaughtered them. They were a threat, determined that the world would be a better place without her and her kin…

The worst part was that deep down, she knew they were right. She was a perversion of nature, a monster feeding off of innocents, and they were the good guys. They were the good guys, and they were losing.

She tried not to think too much about that as she sent a spear of ice through Agmaer's throat, pinning his body to the crates he had been hiding behind. His blood washed over her as his eyes grew cold and lifeless, and she inexplicably wished that her tear ducts were still working.

The smoke and blood overtook her senses, and she found herself somewhere else.

* * *

The undead impurity masquerading as a person crumbled under her Runehammer. She saw the others racing closer with unnatural speed, and changed her posture to hold the weapon as if she was trying to block their attacks. She was not finished, however; she pushed the hammer forward, bashing the thin air of the dungeon and deploying the unique blessing.

A collection of magical runes appeared roughly meters in front of her, and as the first vampire stepped on them the halls of the dungeon were briefly as bright as day. The undead cretins hesitated as they saw the first three in their ranks fall to the ground burning, giving him the chance he needed.

"None escape the Vigil!"

Her battlecry echoes as she charges down the hall, her Runehammer doming in the skulls of the fleeing impurities.

* * *

Louise was suddenly yanked out of her dreams by a knocking on the chest lid. Peeking out, she saw Ysmir fixing his pauldrons to his shoulders and speaking to someone. His voice was lees booming than usual, as he was trying to avoid waking up whoever might still be sleeping in any of the other rooms.

"You know, you two really shouldn't be here. I should really send a courier to the Academy with a letter informing the Headmaster of your irresponsible actions."

Louise had figured out who Ysmir was talking to even before she recognized the smooth, all too female voice that answered him.

"Irresponsible?! Says you two, who run off in the middle of the night on a mission for the Princess, and then comes back only to leave again barely an hour later! We are simply looking out for our friend. Besides, you promised you'd teach us more of that magic."

Louise threw open the chest lid just in time to see Tabitha nodding along as Kirche finished her little berating speech. Kirche took one look at her, and then backed away slightly.

"L-Louise, dear, what happened to you?! Your skin is grey, and your eyes seem to be slightly… yellow?!"

Ysmir jumped in, much to Louise's chagrin.

"She's ill, and we're looking for a cure. Now, you better get out of here, before you catch it too!"

His bluff did not seem to work, as Tabitha simply walked past him and studied Louise.

"Open mouth."

Slightly irritated, Louise fulfilled the request, granting view of her teeth and tongue. Tabitha kept looking for a few seconds, and then, in a matter-of-fact voice, stated "Vampire. Correct?"

Ysmir nodded, deflating as he did so. Kirche was staring like she expected Louise to rip Tabitha's throat out, and Tabitha was sporting a slightly concerned expression.

It took Louise and Ysmir nearly an hour to explain what had happened since they got back from their mission, including a short lecture from Ysmir on the physicalities of vampires and undead in general. Kirche was smothering Louise in her bosom by the end of it, which was less problematic for everyone now that she did not need to breathe. After the unwanted (though arguably warranted) display of affection and sympathy directed at the poor vampire, Kirche and Tabitha reluctantly agreed to leave the other two to their mission, but only after Ysmir promised them a quick lesson in Tamrielic magic.

Since time was semi-short, and he yearned to go back to sleep, Ysmir led the two of them in the shortest class he had ever held in the basement of an inn. That's not to say it was ineffective, though; by the end of it Kirche could launch a small fireball without using her wand, and Tabitha was delving into the applications of summoned daedra, though without more extensive training she was only able to summon a spectral wolf familiar. The two of them were quite pleased, however, and left the tavern in a hurry. They had flown here on Sylphid, and Kirche loathed leaving Flame unattended for very long, since he apparently took great pleasure in eating her stockpiles of candles.

After the two of them had left, Ysmir snuck a quick peak outside. Judging from the position of the sun, as well as the massive clock hanging on the tower attached to the town's Chapel of Brimir, it was around the tenth hour of the morning. Since they had run into the vampires at roughly midnight, he judged himself more than capable to run a few errands whilst Louise slept. He remembered the good Professor Colbert mentioning something about vampires being unholy, so perhaps the priests and the Chapel had resources to battle them?

After checking that all of his equipment was orderly and working, he strode down the street to the big clock tower and the Chapel in its shadow.

 _Viewpoint change!_

The vampires of Tristania, all belonging to the coven who resided in the well of the eastern market, were situated around an oblong table in their hideout. They were discussing what to do with the new players who had entered the board during the night.

The Forgotten knew very little of what had happened, since no one bothered to inform her of any news. She still retained some amount of curiosity, though, and so she was situated in the corner of her cage closest to the door, which in turn was quite close to the table where the proper ones were gathered. She only barely heard what they were saying, but as she understood it there had arrived an unaligned vampire in town, with a ghoul capable of powerful magics. They had chased off the entirety of the coven, including Stilio, who had been afflicted with magical fear.

She found the last part quite humorous.

She decided she had heard enough, and retreated to the corner of her cage where a pile of straw constituted her bed. Whilst laying down, she contemplated the implications of these new players. Perhaps, though it was unlikely, perhaps she could regain her freedom if she played the few cards she had cleverly. She had no doubt that the new one would either be killed or invited into the coven, and it was only the second option which could potentially get her out of this predicament. If nothing else, a ghoul who dared attack Stilio might be willing to advocate her freedom.

Alas, there were many improbabilities in her plan, and she was tired. The Forgotten lay down on her bedding, and drifted off into the land of the dreaming.

 **Author's Comments:**

 **Ok, Ok, I'm really sorry for the horrible delays. School is now finished, but it seems my parents (particularly the male one) had an idea of a summer break involving repainting the house, fixing the well, construct a machine hall, furiously cleaning the house and, surprisingly, paintball. Also, there was an issue when i was uploading this chapter; apparently disliked the format for some reason.**

 **Woah, I feel better already! Good to vent, isn't it?**

 **Now then, Easter Eggs:**

 **In chapter 27, In the first half of the chapter, there is a nod to a popular TV show featuring an alcoholic scientist and his useless grandson. Where it and what is it referencing?**

 **In the latter half of chapter 26, a phrase is mentioned that is very close to something said by a well-known and well-memed group. I want the phrase, the group and the circumstances when they say it.**

 **There is one in chapter twenty-four, when Sheffield is described properly for the first time. The wording may be similar to a semi-famous piece by a semi-famous comedian, and I want the comedian and the piece it's in. A hint: weather.**

 **In chapter nineteen, Ysmir has some philosophical ways to look at power. Another character also mentions something very close to this. I want the name and title of the character, the book series he appears (briefly) in and the name of the main character. A hint: the main character IS NAMED KVOTHE. THIS IS REALLY NOT VERY HARD; YOU JUST READ THE FOUNDER-DAMNED BOOK!**

 **And with that wonderfully exquisite exit, I shall take my leave.**

 **Ossa out!**


	29. Chapter 29: Chapels, Kings and CHEESE!

**Behold my battered and beaten form, young ones, and know that I have spent two weeks working hard. That is a big part of the reason for the delays. I'm going back to work tomorrow, so if this doesn't go up on the twenty-sixth you know why.**

 **That marking the end of my excuses, we have an HONORARY MENTION!**

 **SkyCaptain502 has, in one fell swoop, killed three birds with one stone! He answered these Easter eggs correctly:**

 **Chapter nineteen: Maer Lerand Alveron speaks with Kvothe of this matter in The Kingkiller Chronicle, by Patrick Rothfuss.**

 **Chapter twenty-four: This very elegant way with words comes from comedian Timothy Minchin, in his work Storm.**

 **Chapter twenty-seven: The box of "Time travel stuff" appears frequently in Rick and Morty, in the garage on a shelf.**

 **I recommend you check out all of these. SkyCaptain502 obviously has, and he even had the grace to deny any influence! This obviously means that whatever happens from now on is my fault and my fault only.**

 **Now then, let us continue with the story. If I remember correctly, and I always do, then Tabitha and Kirche had returned to the Academy, Louise was sleeping and Ysmir was heading alone for the Chapel of Brimir.**

 **Oh. Shit.**

Chapter Twenty-nine: Chapels, Kings and CHEESE

Ysmir strolled down the cobbled street, hands behind his back and whistling as he walked. The locals gave him a wide berth, since even without the helmet his Daedric armour looked fearsome. He was coming up to the Chapel of Brimir, even standing in the shadow cast by the enormous tower, when he remembered how certain religious groups acted when presented with Daedric influence.

 _Better safe than sorry,_ He decided, and snuck into an alleyway. When he emerged he was wearing his Guild Master Armour. Though he still stuck out in a crowd, it was more because of his size than anything else. The armour was designed to blend in, after all. Thusly prepared, he walked up to the chapel proper, taking a few moments to admire the building. It was bigger than Castle Dour, which was impressive in itself, but where the castle had a big courtyard and mainly consisted of walls, towers and a keep, the Chapel seemed to be one gigantic building. It had to be big, though, he imagined, if it was to hold the entirety of the population of this enormous city.

It was roughly rectangular in shape, with a five-sided dome situated on the far end of the rectangle, away from the big gate. The clock tower emerged from the top of the dome, and reached roughly eighty meters up into the skies. The dome accounted for around half of that.

The walls were made from white limestone, and framed the gate situated on the short side of the rectangular building on the opposite end from the dome and tower. The gate itself was quite massive, over five meters in height, but Ysmir spotted a smaller door to the right of the gate, with an overhanging roof above it. He approached the door, tried to decipher the minuscule runes inscribed into it. Failing that, he knocked.

The door opened almost instantly, and a man dressed in white robes stood in the doorway facing Ysmir. Raising an eyebrow at the appearance of the visitor, he stepped back to allow him access into the chapel. "What can I do for you, my child?" he said once Ysmir had entered properly.

Ysmir took a moment to admire the insides of the building; the walls were painted in beautiful colours and patterns, and windows of coloured glass limited the lighting significantly. He looked back at the man he assumed was a priest, and answered his questions, trying not to let his inexperience with the character Louise had called Brimir show.

"I have come to this city in order to find and fight several undead whom I believe to be a threat to the locals. I was wondering if the priesthood of Brimir would aid me in that regard."

"Tell me my child," said the priest, "What do you seek to gain from us? We are not like the battle-priests of Germania, but a rather peaceful order. What could we possibly do to help you?"

Ysmir wondered briefly if he was demanding too much, and then limited himself.

"Where I am from, priests offer blessings to those who do good work for them or their god. That is, unless you happen to have a cache of holy weapons lying about?"

The priest shook his head with a sad smile, and motioned for Ysmir to follow him to the altar under what must have been the dome, situated in front of the base of the clock tower. He walked behind the thick base of the tower, eventually leading Ysmir to a door on the opposite end of the tower from the altar. After mumbling a short incantation, the door opened, revealing a set of stairs. As he scaled them, he began speaking to Ysmir, who followed him silently.

"As I mentioned, our order is a peaceful one. However, every temple worshipping the Founder Brimir Ru Rumiru Yuru Viri Vee Varutori has at least one artefact intended to be used to defend the temple and its followers.

Normally, the priesthood would send out their most experienced priest with the artefact to deal with the threat, be it insurrection, invasion or even illnesses. However, we are of course limited by the nature of the artefact bestowed upon us. If a certain temple were guarding say, a sword that could call down lightning, they could obviously not use it in controlling a disease outbreak. When you see our artefact, I think you will understand why we have not used it for over a century."

They had been walking up the stairs for around three minutes when the priest stopped, wheezing slightly, in front of a door. He mumbled another incantation once he caught his breath.

The door swung open, and Ysmir entered the room. It was the inside of the circular clock tower; this fact was quite obvious as he was staring at a surprising amount of machinery and gears reminding him of dwemer ruins, all connected to the backside of the clock. It was an astounding sight, a marvel of technology and magic, judging by several crystals pulsating with light every few seconds and mounted on the biggest gear, powering it and through it the entire clock.

The clockwork was so interesting that Ysmir found himself startled as the priest walked up beside him, smiling a knowing smile.

"Amazing, yes? I was astounded when I first saw it. However, we are not here for that."

As he spoke, he held up his hand over the floor and surprised Ysmir by singing several verses of incantation disguised as hymns. Once he was finished, the marble tiles under their feet undulated like water one had thrown a rock into. They did not sink, thank Akatosh, but a small chest rose through the floor and levitated up to roughly a meter above said floor. The priest opened the lid, and both he and Ysmir gazed into the container to find a book lying on a purple pillow. It was quite dusty, and Ysmir carefully lifted it up and blew the layer of dirt and refuse off its surface, and doing so revealed the image of a phoenix on the front, as well as a title written on the cover.

He recognized the words immediately, and was suddenly very confounded. He knew he had been summoned to this place by Louise, and that Sheffield had been summoned too. The staff of Magnus had appeared rather mysteriously, but then again aedric artefacts tended to disappear and reappear from time to time.

But even so, how could a spell tome of Sun Fire have gotten here?

 _Viewpoint change!_

In the halls of the royal castle in Norstad a man paced back and forth. He was dressed in simple travelling gear, drown clothing and a grey cloak, with only the silver chain around his neck and the golden circlet on his brow indicating his status as King of Varangia. More so than a ruler, King Asgeirr was a practical man and cared little for flaunting and boasting, and thus usually his servants were better dressed than he was. The architecture of his royal residence showed that most of his predecessors shared this attitude: it really was more of a fort than a palace, with few paintings and fewer decorations in its relatively spartan hallways.

As he completed his fifty-second lap around his desk, the door to his personal office finally opened. A servant entered, and told the king that his horse was now ready. The King burst out of his office with gusto, excited to go out.

His subjects had stopped bowing to him when he was out riding when it turned out he liked to ride several times every day, and now they just greeted him with a smile and moved on with their duties. Some of the chieftains considered this disrespectful, but Asgeirr had silenced them by showing a parchment where he had calculated that by forgoing the bowing and pledges of allegiance every time he rode past the harvest could be finished almost five days before schedule, since the farmers could concentrate on their work. Said chieftains left the room muttering that his honour-title, The Scholar, was a little too appropriate.

He thought about these things, and many others, as he rode down the street from his palace through the city and out onto the open road. Three of his guard followed him closely, making sure no one tried to hurt the king.

The four of them followed the western road for roughly an hour, and as the surrounding fields gave way to the forest known as the Greywood. For once, he did not stop for exploration of the many ruins located along the path, but instead drove his horse further along until the trail widened and he found himself outside of a big gate, accommodated into a wall of gigantic stone bricks and crafted from the great oaken trees who grew in the south.

He did not wait for his guards, who had fallen behind their liege, but dismounted and knocked on the gate.

A head appeared over the gate, belonging to the robed watchman patrolling the roofed walkways above it. The man looked down lazily for a moment, and then scrambled to correct his posture as he called out "It's the King! Open the gate!"

Someone seemed to have heard the man, as the gate creaked open to allow Asgeirr access. Ever impatient with unnecessary waiting, he snuck in as soon as he could and before the gate had opened completely. Unlike every other time, though, he did not stop just inside the courtyard to admire the building, but instead headed straight to the former Templar's Quarters, where a good friend of his was waiting.

On the way he passed by a former spare mess hall, now converted to a chapel of some kind. His friend had tried to convert him to his faith, but had given up when he realized the King cared very little for religion in general. Still, Asgeirr admitted that the holy symbol of his friend's faith was very enticing; a floating drinking horn, spilling out fluid he assumed to be delicious mead in an endless stream.

 _Viewpoint change!_

The being who had been watching the King of Varangia climbed down from his spot in the tree. This summoner was… interesting, and older than all the others.

Even so, he would play a big part in the events to come, though not quite so much as the current contenders for Prime Champion and Elder Summoner. Thinking of which…

The being disappeared in a puff of yellow smoke, leaving behind only the faint smell of molten cheese, and traversed the shapeless knot of insanity and bewilderment that was this world's realm of Oblivion. He found the memory he was looking for, and stepped into it, emerging in a somewhat dingy windowless bedroom with two beds, only one looking used.

He turned his attention to the oaken chest in the corner, and let himself turn invisible, though not before calling forth a small bowl of Elsweyr Fondue and placing it right in front of the chest.

Having thus teased a likely candidate for the position of Elder Summoner, along with simply messing with said Summoner's Champion, the Trickster giggled quietly to himself and waited.

 **Author's Comments:**

 **Well, yeah, this took a while and has three different viewpoints, along with two new characters, and an OC, so… Yay?**

 **Either way, I am really tired and this will have to do.**

 **There is only one Easter egg left after the rampage we saw earlier:**

 **In the latter half of chapter 26, a phrase is mentioned that is very close to something said by a well-known and well-memed group. I want the phrase, the group and the circumstances when they say it.**

 **Well, I'll have to leave Y'all here. Keep the ENCOURAGEMENT coming, it's really what drives me to write, even in these tired times.**

 **Later taters.**

 **Ossa out!**


	30. Chapter 30: Faith, Fight and Fondue

**Greetings, my friends. Tis I, Ossa9919, Deceiver of Canadians and Apprentice of Words. I has been roughly ten days since the last chapter upload by the time I am starting up this one, mostly due to work (which is now over) and the male half of my parents still going strong with his plans for world domination. Given that I'm going away on a weeklong camping trip in a few days, this is going to be late, period.**

 **That being said, done and enacted, I am currently in the process of sitting my ass down and trying very hard to conjure up something resembling a real and semi-original storyline. We will see how it turns out. If it goes badly, rest assured that I'm the kind of author who deletes everything bad and starts over until he has something reasonably good. Which will, of course, take EVEN MORE TIME…**

 **Well then, we have no HONORARY MENTIONS this time. I suppose I should get stuck in. Where were we, again?**

Chapter Thirty: Faith, Fight and Fondue (not in that order)

In the mountainous forests of central Varangia, known as the Greywood by the locals, a large number of ruins and abandoned fortifications can be found. According to legend, as well as the Tome of National History kept in the lowest vaults of the Royal Fortress, these ruins are the remnants of an ancient city that used to be one of several strongholds of humanity millennia ago. Now, most of the city has been swallowed into the forests, and the great trees stand where houses and walls used to be.

There is one building left, though, and that building is important.

On one of the higher hills in the forest, overlooking the overgrown ruins surrounding it, lies an ancient Fortress-monastery. Unlike the peaceful nature of present-day Brimiric monasteries, this one was built to withstand the might of elves innumerable, and housed holy warriors who fought with magic and blade to defend their species during the War of Annihilation, when the elves sought to wipe humanity off the planet and the one known as Founder Brimir united the clans recently driven out of the Holy Land to stand against them.

Though once only one of six strongholds like it, nowadays it is the only one left: war between the other human countries have destroyed the others, with the exception of the one in Romalia, which was remade to serve as a palace for the pope.

Varangian royalty have, throughout history, been very protective of their holy fortress of a monastery, and its existence is mostly seen as a myth outside the country. For many years it stood empty, intended to serve as a sanctuary for the Clan chiefs and the reigning king during a war which never came.

The predecessor of King Asgeirr the Scholar, King Eirik the Shieldbearer, put an end to centuries of neglect by restoring the fortress complex to its former glory, as well as actually establishing an order of warriors to guard and maintain the building in preparation for the end of the world, a concept he feared greatly.

As it turned out, he needn't have: at the ripe age of eighty-seven winters he left the mortal world in his sleep, and before his body had even been traditionally cremated Asgeirr had been chosen as his replacement, a notable feat considering his relatively young age of thirty-two at the time. His first act as king was, as per usual for the royals originating from a family of shamans, to summon a familiar to serve as his symbol during his reign.

Most were very surprised when the young king called forth a human. The being watching from invisibility wasn't, but he was rarely surprised nowadays.

More were surprised when the summoned man, who called himself Keeper, did not age alongside his summoner. As Asgeirr over two decades gained a full, grey beard which he enjoyed braiding, the Keeper kept on looking exactly like the day when he was first summoned.

Finally, the King surprised all of the clan chiefs, as well as the Cheesy one, when he gifted his familiar the Greywood Fortress-Monastery and let him set up his own organization there.

If the Keeper was surprised, he did not show it. Instead, he hired several experienced builders and set out to reconstruct many parts of the building, and when it finally met his standard he renamed it.

The new Hall of the Vigilant was ready for use. And the Keeper was ready to purify the realm through the Mercy of Stendarr.

 _Viewpoint change!_

Ysmir was walking up city streets to the _Drunken Farmer_ , having left the spell book in the Chapel clock tower after telling the confounded priest how to use it. It was late in the afternoon, and he could not help but wonder how a tamrielic spell tome had found its way into a chapel of Brimir.

" _Well, it's not like I don't have more important worries",_ He decided whilst mentally shrugging and focusing on the vampires he and Louise were planning to fight tonight. He would have preferred to assault their base during the day, since they would be weaker then, but considering Louise's similar problems with sunlight they had settled for a nightly escapade. Since he planned for most of the fighting to occur underground in their lair, the light would not matter much either way.

He was still strategizing for the coming battle when he reached the _Drunken Farmer_. As he entered his and Louise's room after a quick chat to Bernard the barkeep, he walked over to the oak chest in the corner to rouse his summoner from her deathlike slumber.

That is, he never got around to actually opening the chest. On the floor right before the container stood a bowl of steaming hot liquid. A spoon was laid out next to it, and Ysmir initially passed it off as a kindness from the barkeep, before thinking about it a bit more.

" _If Bernard placed this here, how did he know to put it right in front of the chest where Louise is sleeping? She does not snore, or even breathe, and when did he place it here?"_

A quick dip of his finger confirmed that the liquid was still very hot, and when he tasted it he became even more confounded.

Elsweyr fondue, complete with the bittersweet aftertaste of Moon Sugar.

 _How in Oblivion…?_

 _Time Skip!_

Ysmir had just finished disposing of the mysterious bowl of tamrielic food when Louise saw fit to wake up. Once she had dressed herself in the chainmail-enhanced cloak and pants, put Colbert's wide-brimmed hat on her head as well as donned her two swordlike daggers, the sky was orange in colour and the chapel bell had just tolled five times. Ysmir stuffed the last of his Guild armour into his backpack, and donned the heavy Daedric in its stead. His mace hung by his belt and his shield was on his arm as the two of them left the inn, heading for the decrepit well in the middle of the square located in the eastern part of town, curiously as far away as possible from the Chapel to Brimir, whose clock tower dominated the sky in the east. Many pairs of eyes turned as they walked down the streets, most belonging to bored citizens, though Louise noticed quite a few guards keeping their eyes on the two anomalies as well.

As they arrived at the eastern square, they walked up directly through the mass of merchants cleaning out their stalls to the decrepit well in the centre. Most of the merchants were too busy to pay them any mind, and when the last one left the square was practically empty. A few guards patrolled the streets, but as the sun drew closer to the horizon they grew fewer and fewer, until Louise could not see anyone else out. Ysmir breathed in deeply through his nose and confirmed the observation; he could not smell anyone close to them.

The two of them turned to the well, and Ysmir gestured to the rope which held the bucket.

"After you, Summoner. If you see anything, call out. When you're at the bottom, I'll start climbing, because I doubt this rope could support us both."

Silently muttering to herself that it would take a steel chain to support Ysmir in his armour, Louise nevertheless grabbed the rope and started slowly descending into the well. It was dark down there, but she had learned a neat trick the other night; if she concentrated on the darkness, her vampiric power would empower her eyes, letting her see through it. It was certainly useful, this curse, but ultimately she longed to get her life back. She hadn't fed since Ysmir had brought her a waterskin of blood during their first day in the city. He never told her where it was from, but as much as she wanted to believe he had gotten it from his seemingly infinite backpack, she suspected that there was a corpse of some bandit hanging in the forest outside town, body drained to the last crimson droplet…

She shook herself out of the drooling memories of the succulent taste, and focused on descending down the well. After going down almost twenty meters, she found herself standing on a suspiciously dry packed dirt surface. She tugged twice on the rope to alert Ysmir that she had reached the bottom, and then inspected her surroundings.

Beside the trampled floor, there was one other obvious sign that something had reconstructed the well into an underground living space: directly in front of her was a rough tunnel, leading from an opening in the wall further into the darkness. It curved several times, and she could not make out its destination, especially since she very suddenly got other things on her mind.

She had been correct, the rope could not support Ysmir's massive bulk, and now it snapped sharply, sending nearly three hundred kilos of muscle, armour and unnaturally thick bone falling downward with a yelp.

Louise threw herself into the tunnel without as much as thinking, her vampiric speed aiding her in evading the spiky ball of armour and weapons that was falling down. She landed on her face roughly two meters into the tunnel, and a resounding BOOM could be heard when Ysmir collided with the ground where she had been standing a few moments earlier. The ground shook from the impact, and Louise rushed over to see if he was injured.

Despite the physical impossibility of not breaking any bones when falling twenty meters and colliding with hard ground, Ysmir waved her off and stood up, brushed himself off and cast a continuous glow of healing for a second or two, before crouching and checking his backpack for damage. Louise was incredulous, and rightfully so.

"How in the Founder's name did you survive that?!"

Ysmir concluded that his backpack was whole, and stood up to explain.

"A long time ago, I learned a special technique from a mountain climber. He called it the Cushioned Fall, and it lets you protect yourself better from falling damage through use of heavy armour and a way of relaxing your body."

Accepting her defeat with a sigh, Louise turned around and stared into the tunnel. Whatever vampires were currently hiding out there must have heard the sound of Ysmir's landing, and could rush out to them at any moment.

Ysmir seemed to understand this, and after retrieving Colbert's special torch he took place behind her, and so the two companions sallied forth into the darkness, guided by torchlight and darksight respectively.

 _Viewpoint change!_

The Forgotten had been brought out of her cage, if only for a short time. The coven had called for a feast in preparation for the hunt they were going on tomorrow, and so several of the human thralls had been emptied entirely. Stilio had drunk too much, and ordered her brought out of her cage so that he could ridicule his former leader.

She was thrown onto the dirt floor before him, and received a kick to her stomach when she did not get up to look at him. She obeyed afterwards, and winced with pain. Her cage did not allow for upright movement, and her body was unprepared of the strain standing proved for several muscles.

Stilio snickered, prompting nervous giggles from the rest of the coven. Standing up, he muttered a few syllables and produced his favourite weapon, a scimitar-like blade, made by cutting winds and practically weightless. The Forgotten knew what would come next; he would cut her all over her arms and legs, before offering her a small cup of blood. She would devour it, and her wounds would heal very quickly, albeit painfully. Then, he would repeat the procedure until she collapsed from the pain and exhaustion. Stilio approached with an almost hungry look on his face, and she steeled herself, ready for the first cut.

It never came, but instead the cave floor vibrated with a resounding boom, coming from the entrance tunnel. Stilio screamed out in frustration, and called out to one of his underlings.

"Take her away, and prepare for battle! It seems we have guests to entertain!"

 **Author's comments: Whoa, that took me a long time to write, didn't it? Sorry for that, guys. I have been working on a little side project, but it is still in its baby stage, and I want to make it a surprise. Either way, WE HAVE AN OLD UNSOLVED EASTER EGG!**

 **In the latter half of chapter 26, a phrase is mentioned that is very close to something said by a well-known and well-memed group. I want the phrase, the group and the circumstances when they say it.**

 **With that, I'll leave you to anxiously wait for the next chapter in peace.**

 **Ossa out!**


	31. Chapter 31: Old Friends and new Enemies

**Oh, there once was a woman, as fair as an evenin', in the spring time of old Stros M'kai…**

 **Oh. Sorry, I didn't see you there.**

 **No HONORARY MENTIONS or excuses: let's jump the gun on this one.**

Chapter Thirty one: Old Friends and new Enemies

Louise stalked through the tunnel nervously, with Ysmir following her, desperately trying to soften the clinks of his armour and boots interacting with the ground and each other. She peered into the darkness, her eyes adjusting to allow her passable sight further than what little light Colbert's eternal torch could give them. She knew she should have been nervous, they were attacking an entire coven of vampires after all, but she could only feel the ever growing excitement of the hunt. She was so immersed in that feeling that she almost missed a movement in the dark further up ahead.

Almost.

Louise drew her twin daggers, Fang and Claw, from their sheathes and readied herself for battle. Ysmir likewise readied his mace, forgoing his shield in order to keep holding the torch. For what felt like an eternity, nothing happened. Louise was sure the air grew denser, as if perfumed from some unseen censer, but that hardly mattered to a creature that did not have to breathe. Ysmir was panting, however, and kept throwing mad glances into the dark all around them. Whatever was happening seemed to distract him from the original movement up ahead, and thus Louise was the first one to attack.

She remembered how the vampires had been invisible when they first approached the well during their first night in the city, and thus returned Claw to its sheath. Flexing her now empty hand, she brought forth the fiery orb she had grown to love. With a simple mental push, she sent a constant stream of flames down the tunnel, illuminating the surroundings as it travelled. Before reaching any kind of wall, however, the flames hit something unseen standing roughly thirteen meters in front of them. The unseen being screamed, a shrill, piercing sound that had Louise flinching and Ysmir on his knees with his hands over his ears, desperately trying to block the noise out. Louise continued to burn the creature, though, and soon the scream ebbed away together with the invisibility, revealing a young man, likely not older than eighteen, his clothes and skin burned severely.

Ysmir, standing up straight now that the shriek was no more, approached the body carefully with Louise right behind him, scanning the area for more enemies. Once he reached the unmoving man he spoke a soft word.

" _ **Laas."**_

Louise, busy observing the darkness further down the tunnel for more invisible foes, did not pay her familiar much mind, until the man almost audibly frowned in confusion and raised his hand to cast a spell. An orb of blue and white light shot out of his palm, and hit the unmoving man square in the chest. Said man jerked as if he had been physically pushed, but did not move otherwise nor open his eyes. Ysmir flexed his hand, bringing out a familiar yellow glow.

Much to Ysmir's chagrin, the burns on the man's skin disappeared without a trace within moments as he was surrounded in the yellow light. After a short time, he opened his eyes, and Ysmir very quickly clocked him upside the head with his armoured gauntlet, sending him back to unconsciousness with a groan.

At the loud _clang,_ Louise turned around from her peering and stared at her familiar. "What in the Founder's name are you doing?" she said, trying her best to stay as silent as possible.

Ysmir furrowed his brow, and looked upon Louise with confusion in his eyes. "His aura is clearly visible, he is unaffected by Turn Undead, and he is healed when using normal healing spells. All of these signs point to him being a living mortal, and yet, he does not breathe!"

Now that he mentioned it, Louise noted that the man's chest was unmoving. He was indeed not breathing. It was slightly unnerving, not the least because she was not breathing either. "Maybe he is just holding his breath?" she suggested, though hearing how bad of an explanation it was.

"Unconscious? For this long? No, there is something wrong with him, I think. If I had to guess, I'd say he is neither fully human nor vampire, though likely allied with the latter considering he was invisible like they were before. I don't understand it, but…"

He was interrupted by Louise, who was more focused on the very real possibility of more invisible enemies. "I understand you find this interesting, but aren't we here to defeat a nefarious vampire coven, and interrogate any potential survivors for a cure? Leaving him alive might come back to bite us later."

Ysmir nodded, a bit taken aback by her directness and cold logic, though it was to be expected. She had a lot more riding on this operation than he had. He drew his skinning knife from his belt, and motioned for Louise to look away. She turned her attention towards the darkness once more, and was only slightly unnerved by the wet _thud_ as the knife penetrated the young man. Despite a sudden urge to have a drink, she managed to keep focusing on the dark tunnel before them, which was lucky, because otherwise she might not have heard the muffled shriek further into the darkness.

 _Viewpoint change!_

The Forgotten watched from her cage through the open doorway as Marcina, one of the younger vampires in the coven, clutched her chest and wailed, her screams quickly stifled by some other vampire pressing a cloth to her mouth and holding it there. The Forgotten knew what Marcina was going through, she had experienced it herself. Having a Ghoul meant you gained a supernaturally strong, resurrectable and very loyal servant, but it also meant that you were bound to that servant by Firstborn magic, literally linking your spirits together. Useful when you needed to send information to each other, horrific when either experienced severe pain or died.

Marcina's stifled shrieks were interrupted as Stilio walked over to her and shook her violently, hissing at her all the while. "Stop that screaming! Instead, tell me what that ghoul of yours saw before he died!"

Marcina took a moment to compose herself, and then spoke out to the rest of the coven, including The Forgotten, who had a feeling Marcina would be crying if her tear canals had been functional.

"It's the two we met before! And…" here, she had to stop to gather more strength. "…They resisted the Sleep spell, and killed Deius, just like that!"

Stilio frowned disapprovingly, grabbed her by the shoulders and shook. "Come off it, you know as well as I do that you can resurrect him later. I WANT DETAILS! Where are they, and by which means did they take him out!?"

Marcina was about to tell him, when she and the other vampires all heard the _clanging_ of moving armour coming closer, until it stopped right outside the heavy door connecting the underground complex to the tunnel leading to the well. Once it stopped, Stilio motioned for two of the three remaining ghouls to stand by the door, whilst he himself silently retreated away from the door and noise. The older vampires, who were the ones who had the best hearing, could detect mumbled speech outside. It almost sounded like arguing, but it did not last long before the door exploded inward as if hit by a cannonball. The two ghouls set to guard it were thrown back towards the far wall of the roughly circular chamber, and as the dust settled two figures entered the room. The Forgotten did not know the armoured one, which was by far the most intimidating, but the sight of the pink-haired girl stirred up some old memories and sent a chill down her spine. The girl wore different attire than she remembered, and her eyes had a yellow gleam to them, but The Forgotten was sure of it.

Her old friend Karin had come back to save her, after all these years.

The girl spoke then, however, and the Forgotten found herself confused. The voice was different.

 _Viewpoint change!"_

Ysmir was quite impressed, and Louise noticed this. She spun on the spot to face him, her wide smile showing off her fangs. "See, it worked! I blew down the door!"

Ysmir nodded happily, a small trickle of pride finding its way into his voice. "Indeed you did. Excellent result. I must say, those explosions of yours would be very easy to weaponize, should you ever lust for more destructive power. But for now, let us deal with the task at hand."

Louise nodded, and spun round to face the coven of vampires, who were filing up behind that same man who Ysmir had previously sent running with the help of some magic. He looked like a person of authority, and so Louise called out to him, mustering up every ounce of nobility she could find within her. It turned out to be quite a lot, perhaps because of how expertly she had just blown down his door.

"I am Louise de la Vallière, and the man behind me is my Familiar, who goes by the name of Ysmir. We have come here to find a cure to the curse of vampirism!"

Here, she lost track slightly, awaiting a response that did not come from the confused Stilio.

Ysmir leaned down from behind to whisper something in her ear. He then quickly straightened up, and Louise continued. "And we are prepared to end every last one of you freaks to get it!"

At this, Stilio began laughing. It was a cold, dead chuckle, and his followers quickly joined him, though theirs was a tad more nervous. After pausing to wipe an inexistent tear off his cheek, he stared Louise down and spoke.

"You intrude on our territory, little vampire. You have killed one of our servants, and now you come here demanding we help you cure what you call a 'curse'? You must not have experienced this glory to the fullest, and now you never will. I am Stilio, Leader of this coven since fifteen years, and the only reason I tell you this is so that your spirits may have some peace, knowing who killed them. End them, my children."

With his last words, he summoned his magical blade of cutting winds and stepped back to give his subordinates some room.

Said subordinates wasted no time, and the three ghouls advanced towards Ysmir and Louise whilst all eleven vampires, including Stilio and Marcina, drew back from the attackers to send spells raining over them from afar.

Ysmir was about to call forth a Circle of Protection, but realized in the last moment that it would affect Louise as well. Frowning, he settled for his mace and shield, and went into a battle stance. Louise dismissed her Flame spell and drew both of her daggers, likewise readying herself. This would be the first time she fought since gaining vampiric powers, and she found herself looking forward to it.

The three ghouls formed a triangle, and the one in the front brandished two onehanded swords. He swung his weapons in an overhead arc to try and cut Louise, but found himself striking absolutely nothing. A split second later, just as he realized the girl had moved, a dagger made from shining steel slashed him across the back, drawing quite a lot of blood and making him fall forward in shock… right into Ysmir, who kicked the man in the groin, sending him stumbling backwards again. The Dragonborn swung his heavy mace overhead, and Louise moved on to the next target before the first ghoul had his blood, skull fragments and grey matter splashed across the floor.

Ysmir noticed, as he withdrew his mace from the corpse, that one of the vampires in the back had fallen over, cradling its head. _Interesting_ , he thought, _So they are connected somehow? That would explain the scream Louise said she heard…_

Before he could finish the thought, a rain of sharp ice fragments smashed into him, and though largely blocked by his armour they did drive him back. Simultaneously, he felt a sharp pain in his right leg, but when he managed to look upon it there was nothing visible piercing the armour. He decided two things.

Firstly, the pain was an illusion, meant to throw him off track. He only needed to ignore it for it to go away.

Secondly, he was armoured and had a shield, and was thus much better equipped to deal with the vampire mages than Louise was. He would draw their attention, and let her take out the not-humans-not-vampires-whatevers. She was actually doing that very well, too, he noticed as Louise ducked under an axe and slashed the wielder down his arm. Very well done indeed.

Deciding that this was the way to go, he raised his shield, projecting a small ward through it to hide behind for a moment. Then, dropping his mace, he produced from a pouch on his belt the glass flask containing the sunlight-storing fluid Colbert had given him. After having been left on the window frame whilst he was out to explore the church earlier, the yellow liquid was glowing like molten gold.

As his ward took the edge off the spells being thrown at him, he tried to remember what the professor had said. _When affected by magic, the fluid will release all of its stored sunlight._ He threw the flask into the group of vampires standing at the far wall, and then readied the most accurate spell in his arsenal; a lightning bolt.

"Louise, duck!"

Louise heard the command, and instantly crouched, covering her body with the chainmail-strengthened cloak. Her attackers, one with a rapidly healing cut along his right arm, withdrew to protect their masters.

Magic-enhanced musculature or not, they were too slow. Ysmir sent a decisive flash of electricity towards the flask, the discharge causing the liquid to boil and the bottle to explode before the magical energy entered the fluid mid-air.

The cavernous room was, in a flash, lit up as if someone had managed to bring the sun itself into it. Temporarily blinded and dazed, Ysmir fell on his ass, but not before the chamber was filled with screeching. When he managed to stand and see again, a strange and disturbing sight met his eyes.

Across the far wall of the chamber, ten shadows were burned into the stone. Below each of these shadows, a pile of clothes and grey dust lay. Ysmir did not need to look closer; he recognized the smell as ash.

That was unexpected. Ysmir had thought these vampires roughly equal to the ones carrying the Sanguinare Vampiris strain, severely weakened but not outright killed by sunlight. Clearly, they carried more similarities to vampires affected by Porphyric Hemophilia, who burned to eventual death when exposed to sunlight. Good to know.

As Louise rose from her place on the floor, Ysmir noticed something else. The two remaining not-vampires-nor-humans were lying deathly still on the floor, though their bodies were generally undamaged. Before he could contemplate this further, from behind a large wooden throne standing against the back wall emerged the one who had called himself Stilio, severe burns over his left arm but otherwise unharmed. He coughed, and then straightened up, pointing his blade of winds towards the two intruders. "You break down my door… Kill my subordinates and my minions… I am going to savour your lifeblood when I slaughter you!"

Ysmir raised his shield, but Louise attempted diplomacy. "There are two of us, and only one of you. We might let you go, provided you tell us how to cure vampirism!"

Stilio lowered his blade slightly, and cracked a small smile. "Fools! I have existed for a century, and never during that time have I known of such a cure! Once undead, you cannot go back!"

Louise visibly froze. Ysmir tried to remember if he had any black soul gems on him, and truly hoped Sheffield was willing to assist in some rituals. Stilio looked about to start laughing again, but then everyone were startled by a voice from a doorway on the left side of the chamber, the door hanging slightly ajar.

"I know a cure! Kill that bastard, and I'll help you!"

 **Author's comments:**

 **I know, I know, I'm really sorry guys. It's been roughly a month since last chapter, which in my own opinion is roughly twenty days too long. However, school has a way of throwing you curved balls, and I have been lacking ideas…**

 **That being said and done, we have some EASTER EGGS:**

 **Early in this chapter there is a reference to a famous English poem. I want the passage and the poem's title.**

 **In the latter half of chapter 26, a phrase is mentioned that is very close to something said by a well-known and well-memed group. I want the phrase, the group and the circumstances when they say it.**

 **There. Since this chapter is the longest yet, I happily leave you all now. See you around, space cowboys.**

 **Ossa out!**


	32. Chapter 32: Wherein we kill someone old

**Woe betide any fucker stupid enough to read over my shoulder as I am writing this on the bus ride home. There is one guy who is moving around a lot right behind me and I think he might be reading. If you are, random guy, you can go chop off your nose and stick the stump in some chilli powder.**

 **Now then, where was I?**

 **Oh, right.**

 **We have an HONORARY MENTION: Lost-Wolf-Lover was the first, and thus far only one to recognize the lines from** _ **the Raven**_ **, a classic by Poe. HONOUR ON YOU, AND HONOUR ON YOUR COW!**

 **Either way, let us get started! Ten septims on the big one!**

 **Chapter thirty-two: Wherein we kill someone old**

When faced with this new information, as well as someone who could potentially help them, Louise decided quickly to follow the demands of the unseen voice and take out the vampire standing before her. Ysmir apparently had something similar in mind, for he picked up his mace and raised his shield to a fighting position.

Stilio was seemingly as startled as they were to hear the voice out of the room to the left, but quickly overcame it, raising his magical blade and retrieving from his boot a short and relatively thick wand with a white, opaque stone affixed to on end as a focus. He muttered a spell, and his body was almost instantly swallowed up by a layer of steam. Before he finished the spell, though, Louise stepped in, daggers twirling like streaks of light in the dimly lit room. Stilio blocked the first, slashing attack and redirected the second, piercing blow, and then whipped his wand about, engulfing Louise in a shell of earth almost a decimeter thick, with only her head emerging from it.

Suddenly defenceless, Louise was saved from decapitation by Ysmir, who had switched to his crossbow and was sending bolt after bolt, though none enchanted, towards their enemy. Said enemy whipped his wand about some more, still without using incantations or casting true spells. The bolts were redirected towards the wall by strong gusts of air, and Ysmir had already started moving when they hit it.

He tried to tackle Stilio, but before he could reach him the vampire finished his incomplete spell, turning completely invisible as the steam turned into a sheet covering his entire body. The Dragonborn hit nothing, and only barely managed to stop before crashing into the wall.

Whipping his head around, he could not see any sign of his attacker, and prepared to break free his summoner when something sharp pierced his daedric armour at the left knee joint. He fell down, grasping his damaged leg, and upon seeing a puddle of red liquid start forming beneath it, he dropped his crossbow in favour of a Grand healing spell.

As soon as his tissue started knitting itself back together, however, a sharp pain covered his back, making him gasp in shock and pain. From somewhere in the chamber, Stilio let loose a condescending laugh.

"You see now what you fight against? I can bend the air spirits to my will, sharpening them into weaponry I can use from far away. I can make your own breath pierce you!"

And with that statement, he provided proof; in but a moment Ysmir was lying on his side, coughing blood and desperately trying to heal himself. It proved difficult, for as soon as he summoned the spell Stilio would send a multitude of needle-like invisible implements into his forearm. The pool of blood under him was growing by the minute, and things were not looking good.

That was when the earth prison holding Louise exploded, sending pieces of gravel and dirt flying as Louise sprung out, wand in her right hand and a Healing Hands spell in her left. Diving down behind the armoured body of her familiar, she let loose a barrage of explosions aimed in random directions. The seventh one finally seemed to strike true, as a sharp, pained hiss could be heard afterwards. Louise wasted no time, and began pouring out healing onto her damaged companion. His previously ragged breath became smoother, and he relaxed on the floor before opening his eyes and standing up again, picking up his crossbow from the floor.

Eyes darting around looking for any signs of the invisible vampire, Ysmir and Louise both spotted something laying on the ground a few paces towards the exploded door frame. Diving for it, expecting another piercing attack, Ysmir was surprised when he felt nothing, and examined the object.

On the ground lay a severed arm, torn off by the elbow joint. Several of the bones were piercing the skin in a horrific manner, causing it to leak black ichor, and the hand still held onto the wand its wielder had used. It was short, thick, and a white stone was affixed on the top of it.

The rubble that lay in front of the now ruined doorway shifted slightly, and Ysmir raised his crossbow to shoot the now significantly less dangerous enemy. Louise, however, was quicker.

Another explosion rocked the cavernous room, and the escaping vampire was no more. His invisibility spell flowed off his body like a fluid, and revealed his mangled corpse, thrown several meters into the tunnel by the force of the blast. His entire lower body was lying in pieces of flesh and bone, painting the floor under him black and grey with undead bodily fluids. He did not take a last breath, since he did not need to breathe, but his eyes visibly glazed over and he relaxed.

Both Louise and Ysmir wasted little time, and the corpse was incinerated within the minute to make sure he did not come back. Neither of them were certain of all properties these strange vampires might possess, after all.

Breaking the silence that she had not realized was permeating the chamber, Louise spoke up.

"Well, that's that then. We killed the entire coven. Now we just have to find the owner of that voice…"

Ysmir indicated towards said door. "Shall we?"

"You go first. It might be a trap."

Shrugging, Ysmir readied his crossbow and approached the door, Louise in tow.

The door, a sturdy door made from thick planks and held together with silver nails for security, slowly opened. A dark-haired woman was lying on the floor, eyes barely open, trying in vain to focus on the two who stood in the doorway. She was dressed in what was basically a potato sack, with holes cut out for her arms, legs and head. Her extremities were covered in burns, with some of her skin having disappeared entirely to reveal greyish red flesh her head looked relatively untouched by the flames, but it was clear from the many bald spots on her scalp and her short, stained and messy hair that she had not been left unharmed before now.

She seemed to have expended most of her remaining strength calling out to them, and Louise instantly summoned her golden healing spell, though when she tried to extend her magicka towards the woman it simply flowed straight into the air without even touching her. Ysmir stepped forth, and readied a spell of his own, all the while explaining.

"Vampires and other undead cannot be healed through normal means. There is a variant of the normal Healing Hands spell, though, which will do the trick."

Yellow light surrounded the woman, and slowly her wounds began to knit themselves back together, and her previously unsteady gaze returned to sharpness. She stood up, still not fully healed, and greeted her helpers.

"So, He's dead?" Her eyes did not water, but her voice cracked just a slight bit. "Did you kill him? Is he finally gone?"

Ysmir nodded, very slowly. "Yes. He is dead. Now, we want to know, who are you?"

Louise added onto the question from behind her wall of a familiar. "And how do you cure vampirism?"

The golden lights receded from the woman, and she ran a newly healed hand through what could be called hair, if one was generous. "I… I used to be the leader of this coven, up until a decade ago, when that bastard overthrew me, killed my ghoul and locked me in that cage. I have spent ten years in a hell of his design, and all because when we first met, I had power and he did not."

Ysmir and Louise were both taken aback, but the woman did not stop, ignoring their gaping mouths and horrified expressions.

"He forbad every member of the coven to speak my name, and took me out every now and then for some… Personal torture sessions. Look at me. My body is scarred, my hair is shorn like someone took a sword to it, I'm wearing a sack at the moment, and I don't care. Right now, I finally feel like a person again.

Before the bastard imprisoned me, and before the banning of my name, I was called Darsini. Now, when he is dead, I feel I can retake that name. But, if I may ask, who are you?"

After explaining their general identities, though without family names nor political status at Louise's request, Darsini grabbed her chin in thought and then spoke clearly.

"I think I'm going to go my own way for a while, to forget what has happened here, but before I go I suppose I should tell you both of the cure."

Both Louise and Ysmir perked up, and motioned for her to continue.

"Well", she said, "As far as I know there are two ways of curing vampirism. The first is through firstborn magic, but you'll never find a vampire strong enough to cast the spell. If you want to go down that route, you're going to have to find some elves."

Louise shuddered slightly, whilst Ysmir was wondering why Darsini had put so much emphasis on some elves. They were just people too, after all. He supposed they too could differ from the tamrielic variety, but if Louise's reaction was anything to go on they did not want anything to do with them. Darsini, sensing their unwillingness, continued.

"There is another way, though. Have any of you ever heard of a Temple to Humanity?"

Both of them shook their heads, earning a sigh from the woman.

"Well then, here is the gist of it; Many millennia ago, when the human race was first united by Brimir, he ordered built six temples, one in each province he conquered, to serve as centres of faith as well as fortresses should the elves try to start another war of extinction. These temples, constructed like military bases upon the ley lines from which all mages draw their power, were called the Temples of Humanity."

Upon finding no one objecting, Darsini continued her explanation.

"Of course, six thousand years have rendered most of them destroyed. As far as I know, only two remain. The papal palace in Romalia is one of them, but no vampire is going to go there any time soon, what with all that holy magic in the air. No, you'll be going north.

The barbarians of Varangia try to keep their own Temple a secret, especially since they don't actually worship the Founder, but recently the king there, I forget his name, gave the whole thing away as a gift to someone. I only overheard this a few months ago, but if it's true, then you have a fully functional temple, sitting on the biggest ley line north of Romalia. Any competent mage should be able to channel at least SOME Firstborn magic there, and it might be enough to cure you."

 _Viewpoint change!_

It was dark, almost midnight, and a man dressed in black armour entered _the Drunken Farmer_. His face was obscured by a mask, and his eyes were hidden behind lenses of black glass, mounted into his hooded headpiece. As he walked to the bar where the barkeep was polishing a cup, his cape flared out slightly behind him, rippling though there was no wind. Bernard the barkeep raised his gaze from the offending discoloration on the cup, and took in the sight of the second weirdest dressed man who ever walked into his tavern.

The man pulled out a stool, and sat down. Bernard walked over, setting down the cup in favour of a tankard he grabbed from a shelf under the bar. "What can I get you, Sir?"

The man looked up at Bernard, and though he could not see the eyes nor the mouth he could have sworn the man was smiling under there. Up close, he could see the mask was oddly shaped. It bulged out, like the face that was under there was deformed. _That's a pretty good reason to wear a mask, I suppose._ When the man spoke, his accent was strange too.

"This one would like a room, and a cup of your finest cream. What would the cost be for the night, the bed and the cream, I wonder?"

Bernard did some quick calculations. "That'll be forty-five New Gold, Sir, and if you don't mind I'd like you to pay beforehand. You can never be too careful, can you?"

The man opened a pouch on his belt, and took from it a red jewel, the size of a grape. He set it down on the counter. "Will this be enough, one wonders?"

Bernard was having trouble comprehending what just happened. There was a large ruby laying right in front of him. Well, no matter, he was an honest man and would give honest change.

"I don't actually think I can give you change for that, Sir. Tell you what, tomorrow you can go and sell it to one of the jewellers in the city, and you can pay me afterwards. I think you will be able to afford it."

The barkeep bent down, and brought up a large tome, a quill and a bottle of ink from under the counter. "Sign your name here, please."

The masked man took the quill, and was just about to write his name down when he suddenly stopped, and pointed to the name above his intended space. "Who wrote this name in the book?"

Bernard usually did not give out information like that, but technically the man was a paying customer. "A man who came in last night. He is out right now, but he should get back shortly. If you want, you can wait here until he comes."

The masked man nodded, and wrote his own name in the book. Well, at least Bernard supposed he did. He did not use the standard Romalian Runes, and looking closer, neither had that other guest…

The masked man took his tankard of cream, and went to sit down in the darkest corner of the room. For a moment, Bernard was sure he saw a furry tail swishing across the floor under the man's chair, but he dismissed it as a trick of the light. He had been awake for more than sixteen hours, after all.

 **Author's Comments:**

 **Yes. I know. It took a while. I lost my laptop charger, and before I could buy a new one I had to study for an upcoming test in maths, and then there was a theatre thingy in Swedish…**

 **Work, work, work. Well, at least it is finished.**

 **With regards to this chapter, I have to say, I had a really agonizing time looking for any information, or even a picture of Darsini. The books she is from (if it's even a she) are not available to me, and, well, all of her appearance is based on one, I repeat one, picture I found buried VERY far down in the google image search. It might not even be of her.**

 **If I've offended someone with my bad physical description, PM me and I swear I will fix it within the day.**

 **No Easter eggs for this chapter.**

 **Later taters.**


	33. Chapter 33: Wherein we meet someone new

" **Each chapter is preceded by excuses. But without the Writer, there is no chapter."**

 **-The Underking, somewhat paraphrased.**

 **Hello friends and foes, 'tis I, Ossa, Deceiver of Canadians and Apprentice of words. I return from my torpor to find several reviews, and luckily none of them are complaining about Darsini. Thank Founder… Out of curiosity, how many of you have actually read the novel she appears in?**

 **Either way, since there were no Easter eggs last chapter, we should continue.**

Chapter Thirty-three: Wherein we meet someone new

Louise was happy, elated, and quite glad. Things had not gone quite according to plan, but the end result was more than enough; they had a solid lead on a cure, and had rid the world of a few monsters, to boot!

Hence she was skipping up the roads of Tristania, with her familiar walking alongside her, almost equally happy. This questline was turning out excellent. First a new friend, then an acquaintance, who was almost certainly a recurring character, and then an interesting mission to cure the friend of vampirism. He was feeling more excited than he had in a decade, and things were only just beginning.

The night was beautiful, and the stars lit their way along the streets to the _Drunken Farmer_. Ysmir was longing for some sleep and a drink, and Louise was not very adverse to the idea of a nap either.

The inn came into view, dull light escaping out of its windows of stretched hide. It looked just as dingy as it had when they left it, and once inside this was confirmed. The worn furniture and groaning floor had its own charm, though, and Louise headed up to their room, intent on entering the oak chest she was using as a makeshift coffin. The sun rose early during the summer in Tristain, and she did not want to get caught in its rays. Ysmir, meanwhile, headed to the bar, where a very tired Bernard was sorting through his stores of wine. Walking up to the counter, he greeted the exhausted barkeep and asked of a bottle of mead.

When the bottle was placed on the bar, instead of taking it with him to the room, Ysmir found himself dawdling. He was tired, yes, but still he'd like for something more to happen before he went to sleep. Calling it a hunch or simple gut feeling, he felt like drinking his mead at the bar would end up with an interesting outcome.

His hunch proved itself right then and there, for on the chair to his left a man sat down. Seeing as Ysmir had not heard him approach, he either wore enchanted gear or had a very light step. The man rested a gloved hand on the counter, and Ysmir recognized the glove. He had seen one other person wear a glove like that. This one was slightly different, in that it fully covered the fingers. Either way, the design was very iconic. Different layers of leather, cloth and very thin chainmail overlapped, all shades of dark grey and black in colour. Like the scales of Alduin, or the feathers of a Raven. The latter seemed more appropriate. A quick glance to the head of the hand's owner proved his assumptions: the hood was equally black and a bulging mouthpiece complete with built-in goggles of dark glass covered all of his face. A Nightingale.

The man turned to face Ysmir, and Ysmir returned the gest. As his view was dramatically improved, he could see that the man was not just wearing the distinctive and exquisite Nightingale armour. Where his torso, thighs and upper arms should be covered by the same material that made up the gloves, hood and boots, they were not: dark chainmail jutted out from an equally black breastplate to protect the upper arms, shoulders and legs, down to the knees. This was not the standard armour his friend Karliah wore, but something different. He did not have the time to ponder further upon this, as the man spoke, revealing through his accent many things.

"Greetings, traveller. This one has questions. Perhaps you have some answers?"

 _Khajiit, no doubt about that. Male, definitely male, and he wants information. Well, if he just wanted to kill me he could have done so at any time._

"Perhaps. But, as in all things, I feel this should be fair. For every question I answer, you answer one of mine." It was a gamble, but he might as well try to get some information of his own from the cat.

The Khajiit nodded, and Ysmir could almost hear the smile on his face through the mask he was wearing. "Of course. Would the Nord like to start?"

Ysmir did not need to think long. "What do you call yourself?"

"Oh, that is risky for you. But no matter, you asked and shall receive. Where this one thinks we both come from, he has many names and titles. Here, he only goes by one name, and no title. I am Q'jaed, and Q'jaed am I. Now then, I ask you this: Who are you?"

 _Interesting. Well, might as well answer truthfully._

"Like you, I have many names and titles, and only go by one in these lands. To these people, I am Ysmir."

The Khajiit tensed up, just for a fraction of a second, and when he spoke again his voice was significantly less friendly. "You seem to have a habit of using names that do not belong to you. You dare call yourself Dragon of the North, and you write the name of the Liar into the guestbook of a common inn."

Defending himself, Ysmir bumbled a bit. "I may have borrowed the name of the Liar to protect the identity of my summoner, but I assure you, I am Ysmir. Anointed by the Greybeards and tested by their speech, I carry this name instead of my own."

The Nightingale moved like the wind, and Ysmir found himself staring at a dagger held four millimetres in front of his throat. It had the distinctive curve of a weapon forged from ebony, and magical runes faded on and off its surface. "You may not be the Liar, but you speak just as much truth." The Khajiit growled. "The only reason you are not lying dead at this moment is because I want you to know what you have done before you die."

Ysmir dared not move, but silently called forth a Grand Healing spell in case the cat truly fulfilled his threat. The Nightingale continued.

"This one is the only now living Ysmir. He is named Q'jaed, Second Son of the Liar by blood, Dovahkiin by soul and Guild Master by skill. Sixty years has he walked Tamriel, and now he strides across these lands. And he has never, and will never, tolerate the direct insult of impersonating him, especially with how bad of a job you are doing!" Here, the Nightingale got off track slightly.

"In all seriousness, where did you hear that the Dragonborn, which is me, wears daedric armour and wields a mace? And, of course, how did you think to impersonate a Khajiit without claws, fur or tail?"

Ysmir quickly replied, not wanting his throat sliced open. "Wait, wait, I am the Dragonborn, and I can prove it!"

Q'jaed, if that was his name, seemed very amused by this statement. "Truly? This one hopes you have better proof than knowing how to speak Dovahzul, or use the Thu'um. These are rare qualities, true, but if you want to convince Q'jaed you need to show him something better."

Ysmir thought quickly. He could have pointed out that he was wearing an amulet of the Elder Council, but that could have been stolen or replicated. No, he was going to have to go on knowledge here.

"Ask me a question, something that only a Dragonborn would know." Risky, very risky, but his best bet.

Q'jaed seemed surprised for a moment, if the movements of his tail were anything to go by. He stayed silent for a second or two, and then he spoke.

"When this one defeated Alduin in Sovngarde, he had the aid of three long dead heroes who dwelled in the halls of the dead. The way to that hall was a bridge made from the bones of a whale." Here he paused, making sure Ysmir was still listening. This was slightly redundant; most people tend to listen very carefully when there is a knife by their throat. He continued.

"For anyone to cross that bridge, they have to be measured by Tsun, shield-thane of Shor and Nordic god of trials against adversity. Have you met him?"

Ysmir nodded, he remembered the hulking giant of a man, or god, very well. His memories of Sovngarde were still sharp as ice, whilst many of his other early endeavours had faded significantly.

"Well then, this shall be easy for you. Firstly, how did he look?"

"Tall, very tall, and with muscles like an ox. He had brown hair, and wore it long."

The tail stopped its hostile swishing. That seemed like a good sign, but Q'jaed was not convinced yet.

"Correct, but that might well have been a lucky guess. But if you have truly been anointed Ysmir by the Greybeards, you must know this; what is the name and nature of the leader of the Greybeards, and where does he dwell?"

Ysmir let out a chuckle, bringing his throat dangerously close to the dagger. "You are speaking of Paarthurnax, now eldest of his kin and brother of the World Eater. He used to live in seclusion on the peak of the Throat of the world, and he still comes there often, but nowadays he spends a lot of time in the Imperial city as an advisor to the Emperor."

The Khajiit tilted his head in confusion, and removed his blade from Ysmir's throat. "You confidently state his location, though you are wrong. Q'jaed does not understand this; surely, you would know that Paarthurnax is travelling Tamriel with the rest of the reformed Dovah, if you know his name and that he is a dragon?"

Ysmir remembered something. "You know, I have a theory about that. Does the name Serana ring any bells?"

"No. Wait, yes, maybe…" The nightingale cradled his covered chin as he thought. "Q'jaed thinks one of the maidens of Anvil bears that name. Well, he supposes he should not call her maiden any more…"

Ysmir nodded in confirmation. "So you do not know of a vampire named Harkon, nor a Prophecy known as The Tyranny of the Sun?"

"No. what are you getting at, Nord?"

"Some time ago, I met another one who had been transported here through a portal from Tamriel. She knew of the Tyranny of the Sun, and Harkon, but had not heard anything of Alduin coming back. I would have thought her from another age, but she claimed to have been born in year 165 of the Fourth Era, and mentioned the Markarth Incident."

The Nightingale cut Ysmir off. "You are saying that many different versions of Nirn exist, and you come from another one than Q'jaed?"

"Essentially, yes."

The cat-man was silent for a moment, and then looked over his shoulder for the barkeep. Bertram had actually left the two of them alone almost instantly after handing Ysmir his mead, and was currently enjoying a dreamless sleep in his bedroom, snoring quite loudly. Q'jaed turned back around, satisfied that they were alone. "You sound too much like my father to be lying. Fine, I accept your theory as the best answer available."

Ysmir, relieved beyond belief, took a deep drink of his mead. "So, you were serious? Your father is the Liar?"

"He used to be. This one's brother wears that mantle now. You know what they say, there is always one and only one, but what happens if the firstborn of the current Liar are twins? Apparently the Skooma Cat had quite a chuckle that night."

"And what of his… special properties? Do you share the abilities of your brother and father?"

Q'jaed fished up a small hip flask from one of his many pockets, and removed his mouthpiece to take a swig, baring his catlike maw for the first time. His fur was grey and black, with occasional brown spots. He set the flask down on the bar, and answered.

 _Viewpoint change!_

It was dark and damp in the cell. The stone walls, unrelenting to direct attacks, had over the centuries slowly let through water, fungi spores and a small colony of rats. The latter lived in the pile of hay laid off to one side, only venturing out to steal food from the larder. The fungi clad the walls in clusters, some shedding faint blue light upon the contents of the dungeon. The occupant appreciated them, not because she needed the light to see, for she did not, but because they gave her something to do, monitoring their growth.

They had grown roughly a millimetre since she was first put in the cell. The ones on the left wall tended to grow quicker, but she did not know why. It did not matter, either way.

The woman incarcerated in the cell ceased her observation when she heard footsteps. The door, covered in silver cutlery and other miscellaneous items made from the accursed metal, was opened. She could do very little to defend herself now, with such an extreme case of blood loss, but she still stood up, meaning to face her nemesis like a man. Woman. Whatever.

Sheffield entered the cell, flanked by two of her servants; one a vampire, the other a mortal thrall. For a moment, she just stood there, watching the imprisoned woman silently. When she spoke, she betrayed no emotion.

"I'm letting you go. If you return here, you will not only be a fool, but a foolish pile of ash. Jean-Jacques, would you do the honours?"

Before the woman could react, her chains were off, and the three others were exiting the cell. Sheffield called out to her over her shoulder.

"You will receive free passage out of Albion. I suggest you don't squander it."

"Wait!" Sheffield halted, if only for a moment. "Why?"

"You are risky. One of my possible allies insisted I release you. I can't afford attracting his wrath, not this early, so I let you go. It's as simple as that."

Serana stood in her cell, unsure of what to do next. _Well,_ she thought to herself, _I need some clothes and a drink. Then, I should try to find whoever made her so scared._ It was as good a plan as any, so she picked up the smell of the closest mortal and prepared to hold herself back. After all, she was really thirsty and would prefer not to kill anyone today.

 _Viewpoint change!_

"So, you're leaving?"

"Yes, but only for a time. Albion must be purified from the undead taint."

The king adjusted the metal ring upon his brow that served as his badge of office. He was feeling uneasy, and droplets of cold sweat were rolling down his face. He did not like having to stay at home when his familiar was going to war.

"How long will it be before you're back?"

"Not long. With a force this big, I estimate less than two months. Of course, the newest recruits haven't had time to learn the proper spells yet, but they will find combat experience better than magic at keeping you alive."

"What do you mean, 'This big'? You have three hundred warriors. On foot."

"Not warriors. Vigilants. And Stendarr leads us. We are His chosen, and we will send his Light to the darkest places of the world. Right now, the darkest place is Albion."

The King sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Are you sure you don't want to borrow any forces? I assure you, my Berserkers and Shamans can hold their own against the undead."

"No. The Vigilants must not be thought of like a military unit affiliated with Varangia. We are supposed to be free from such things as politics and rulers."

"That will be difficult, considering that your leader, the 'High Keeper', you, are bound to me, the King of Varangia, with ancient magic. Sooner or later, the people will find out."

"True, but I'd rather it be later."

"Fine. But at the very least, bring a rune carver and a suitable stone. Political correctness be damned, this is an invasion, and I am not about to let my familiar break a tradition more ancient than the fortress he lives in."

The Keeper turned to look at his summoner, who was standing tall with crossed arms. Stendarr bless him, he could still appear regal when he needed to.

"Deal. I depart in two days."

"May the gods be with you."

"And also with you."

 **Author's Comments:**

 **I was going to add another Viewpoint and about 1200 more words, but I am pushing it to the next chapter to give my American readers something good in these day of surprise and, dare I say it, stupid evil. As a citizen of the rest of the world, I put my hope to the Illuminati and the various other puppeteer organizations that are said to exist in the states: please, please keep the Americans at least somewhat safe.**

 **Anyway, I had a really agonizing time trying to write Khajiit dialogue. Truly, it does not look good on paper. Or screen, or whatever. I hope it is still readable.**

 **There are no Easter Eggs in this very long chapter, sadly. I have been lacking them recently, but I hope to better myself soon.**

 **I'll see you guys later.**

 **Ossa out!**


	34. Chapter 34: Three Agreements

" **For ages the Great Houses and the Temple have kept our land clean of the vampire's taint, but now these undead lords and their vile cattle have returned. These vampires die, and their corrupt cattle with them, and their blood taint must be forever erased by fire and stake."**

 **\- Anonymous,** _ **Blasphemous Revenants**_

 **Yes, Yes, I know. We now have at least two dragonborn, a vampire queen, a newly freed Serana and some fellow from the Vigilants of Stendarr running about in Halkeginia. A bit chaotic, to be sure. However, to quote an often-quoted song, "You ain't seen nothing yet!"**

 **In all seriousness, though, I am getting surprisingly few exclamations of wonder and shock from you readers. Truly, I wonder if any of you even read through my wordsalad properly…**

 **Ah, well, no time for that. Where were we?**

Chapter thirty-four: Three Agreements

In a palace there once lived a king.

He was not a happy king, for in the past he had done something very bad, and now he could not forgive himself for it. His guilt drove him to try and become the most capable king in the world, and so he spent more than a decade studying the world, the powers that made it work, and the laws that governed it.

He had his servants and niece fetch him great works of literature, holy relics, the faded musings of long dead philosophers, and much more. His library grew to be one of the greatest in existence, and he grew more intelligent and curious with every book, his mind sharpened by the words like a sword by a whetstone.

From the hidden libraries underneath the papal palace in Romalia, his spies one night retrieved what seemed to be the holiest scripture in the world: the original journal of the Founder. The book was falling apart even with all of the preservation spells lain upon it, and the language was ancient, nothing but gibberish to anyone else. But the book recognized the brand of magic used to write it when touched by the King. He read it with no trouble whatsoever, amazed at the information within its pages.

When he later looked back, remembering the actions that had led him to his current position, he often wished he had not read the last page of the journal.

He did read it, late in the night, the same week he first received the book. He had gained great power from the earlier pages, for like the Founder, the king was a Void mage, and the spells and the theories recorded in the journal had boosted his power to unimaginable heights. Though now more powerful than ever before, he still lusted for more, and so he read the last page.

And then, when he finally understood the text, he fell off his comfortable reading chair, threw up into the closest plant pot and suffered a minor heart attack. The book, the founder Brimir who had carved out a spot for the humans in a world ruled by elves, was telling him that he did not exist.

Then, and only then, did he finally let go of his guilt. After all, why hold on to something that did not happen? And with his guilt, so too fled most of his spirit; he lost the will to live and his appetite, ignored his wife and young daughter, and what little emotion he showed took the form of malice; he loathed the populace, who were ignorant and happy, he disliked his fellow aristocrats, who hungered for glory like hounds hunger for meat, and he despised his niece, for it was the murder of her father that had first started his quest for knowledge.

He knew in his mind that this specific hate was not justified, but he did not care. After all, why should he? He rarely displayed anything but disinterest at the royal affairs, and spent most of his days trying to forget what he had read in the book, and finding a way to prove it wrong. His failure to do so made him even more detached from the world.

It was only after his advisors had begged him, on their bare knees, to do so, that he finally did what he according to them should have done when he first assumed power. He had a summoning circle drawn, and prepared to call forth a familiar, as a final, irrefutable proof that he could be the acting monarch. After all, the king needed to be able to use magic, and needed a familiar as a proof of this ability, as well as a living, breathing coat of arms.

Joseph of Gallia, King of the Realm and Lord of Versailles, and known to the rest of the world as Mad King Joseph, thus prepared to summon a familiar, and then in short order have it imprisoned or sent off somewhere, to be brought out for whatever ceremonies required it.

It was a lovely day, and the snow was just starting to melt from the thinnest branches of the trees dotting the capital of Gallia. Every now and then, rebelliously green plants dotted up through the white to drink from the sunlight, and the king, along with his closest advisors, was standing on a great circular balcony hanging off of the royal palace, built for the precise reason of royal summoning.

The circle was intricate, more so than needed, Joseph noted. His advisors must have pulled some strings to affect what general type of creature he would summon. He knew that it would have absolutely no effect whatsoever, but he went along with the act. His chant was short and dismissive, and his advisors were thrown off their feet when the explosion occurred. Joseph, who knew it was to be expected, managed to brace himself.

When the smoke drifted away in the breeze, a figure in armour of gleaming blue ice stood in the middle of the circle. She seemed to be mumbling to herself, for it was definitely a she, with long blond hair and a beautiful, if slightly hard, visage. Joseph, now marginally more interested in the situation, approached his familiar-to-be.

"You have been summoned by Joseph, King of Gallia and lord of Versailles, to act as my familiar. Who are you?"

The woman quit her mumbling as the king approached, and then measured him under her gaze. "You think you can take someone from their home, with no concern for their life or family? You think you have the right to demand allegiance? You are mistaken, King. By the ancient laws of the All-Maker, you will pay for your disrespect in sweat."

Here, her eyes began to glow a slight orange, and she changed into a battle stance.

" **We are Frea, Shaman of the Skaal, and we will accompany you on your journey to redemption. We sentence you to a pilgrimage."**

Everyone present, excluding Frea, were sure that the king would refuse this. He had shown little interest in anything leading up to the summoning, and so they were greatly surprised when he answered.

"Fine. It will not matter, either way." _And maybe,_ A small, deftly hidden part of his mind thought, _A pilgrimage might rekindle my spirit…_

 _Time Skip and Viewpoint Change!_

Louise awoke from her dreamless slumber and found the room empty, and Ysmir's bed untouched. A quick peek through the wooden shutters revealed that the sun had retreated behind the horizon, and so she went down to the bar to see if perhaps Ysmir was there. They had a long journey ahead of them, after all.

She found him sitting at the bar, discussing something with a masked stranger over several empty bottles of mead, with the pile of corks beside them hinting at even more having been consumed. Curiosity took hold of her, and she stayed in a small alcove between two load-bearing wooden pillars, and focused her hearing to see if she could hear what they were saying.

Ysmir's normally booming voice was very easy to distinguish even when he was actively trying to keep his voice down. "So, what happened to the Blades in your timeline? I'm curious as to how they turned out."

The masked stranger sounded muffled, obviously, but he also had a strange accent. "Esbern died nearly a decade ago, at the age of ninety and eight years old. Delphine refused to cooperate with me and Paarthurnax, and was intent on disbanding the greybeards and infiltrate the rest of the whole world. She had strayed from the ideals of the Blades, and so she left them a few years after the fall of Alduin with a small splinter group to start her own organization."

The masked man chuckled.

"She did not give me much of a choice, really. Her end was swift."

Louise wondered who this Delphine was, but did not mourn her death. Rebellion and insurgency was something unforgivable. Curious and reasonably sure she could defend herself should the masked man prove to be hostile, she exited her hiding spot and approached her familiar, calling his attention to her by poking his shoulder.

Ysmir turned around to smile at her, and wished her good evening. Louise stood there, silent, until he took the hint.

"Ah, apologies. Louise, may I present Q´jaed, a new friend of mine. Q'jaed, may I present Louise Vallière, the one who summoned me to these lands."

Slightly surprised that Ysmir would divulge his origins to a stranger, Louise said nothing as the masked man rose from his seat and bowed elegantly, speaking only when he once again stood upright. "It's an honour, milady."

Surprised at the level of sophistication, Louise mechanically curtsied. "Likewise."

Ysmir raised his hand to signal the barmaid, Bertram's daughter, that he wanted another bottle of mead. Bertram himself was nowhere to be seen, having left the inn a few hours earlier to refill his dwindling stock of a certain honey-based beverage. "Q'jaed is from another world, like myself, but his world is a near-exact copy of my own, as far as we can tell. This is very interesting; I wonder just how many alternate worlds there might exist…"

Louise interrupted what she thought was leaning far too close to philosophy. "Yes, yes, that's all well and good, and it is nice to know that we are not alone in this conundrum." Here, she nodded appreciatively towards the masked man. "However, we have a mission, if you remember? We need to get going!"

Q´jaed piped up. "A mission? You have a quest?"

"Well, yes, we do. It involves travelling to the north, and seeking out some ruins in an effort to cure vampirism." For this, Ysmir received a kick to his armoured ankle.

"Why is it that you have such trouble keeping your mouth shut?"

"He's a friend, and potential ally! I thought we would offer him to come with us!"

"We can handle it on our own!"

"We had significant trouble killing one invisible, wind controlling vampire upstart. We were forced to retreat from Albion! If this pattern is anything to go by, we will need all the help we can get!"

"You barely know him!"

"You didn't know me, when you called me forth!"

"Ugh, fine." Louise turned to the amused Q'jaed. "Would you like to accompany us on a personal quest to Varangia?"

"Hmm… I am usually rather against the colder temperatures… but I have been stranded here for several months, and you are the first one to ask for my services, rather than demanding them or trying to bribe me… still, speaking of bribing, there is the matter of payment."

"My family are an offshoot of the royal family, and in practice we rule nearly a ninth of the country. Should this expedition succeed, you will receive adequate compensation. During the expedition itself, you will be entitled to a third of any loot we may come across. So, what would you say?"

"Well, the deal itself seems decent enough… and I suppose I have nothing better to do…

 _Viewpoint change!_

The rain was pouring down as if some malignant deity had suddenly emptied his bathtub in an attempt to drown every land living animal who had ever dared to stray from his as of yet not defined laws. The unending downpour of water turned the roads into little more than great puddles of mud, at several places crossed by streams of water heading to the closest coastline.

On one of these roads, going past a certain airship port built into the mountainside, there walked two scarcely recognizable forms, clad in hooded coats of oiled leather to keep the worst of the water out. The one in front was walking with her back straight and a smile on her lips, enjoying the cooling shower. The other one trudged on a few steps behind her, grumbling and cursing as he went. His formerly pristine hair was wet and messy, his beard had not been shaved in days and was itching like crazy, and the boots which had formerly tread the palace halls with ease had showed themselves to be prone to leaking. _I'm going to have the royal shoemaker publicly flogged and executed_ , he decided.

From the opposite direction, another wanderer approached the two. The angry man did not notice her at first, and just trudged on, but the happy woman raised her hand in greeting. The lone wanderer approached closer, enough to grant the happy woman a view of a feminine chin and pale lips, but with her upper head and the rest of her body hidden by a raincoat of waxed leather two sizes too big for her.

"Excuse me, but do you know where the closest big city?"

"Indeed! The closest major city would be Tristania, and it is on our route. Why don't you join us? You would not mind, right Joseph?"

The angry man only grumbled and cursed some more, before continuing onward toward the capital of Tristain.

"He may seem grumpy, but you are welcome to come with us. Would you? And may I ask your name?"

Turning to follow the angry man, the wanderer walked alongside the happy woman. "Why not? I'm Serana."

 **Ok, ok, this chapter took much too long time. I really have no excuse: I rewrote several parts several times and I am still not too happy with it. No matter, there is an EASTER EGG:**

 **In the beginning of the chapter there is a reference to a very popular, and rightly so, character from a reasonably similar universe. Where is it, who is it and is he/she not awesome?**

 **See you soon, guys.**

 **Ossa out!**


	35. Chapter 35: Ominous Intermissions

" _Walk always in the light, or we will drag you into it." – Common phrase among the Vigilants of Stendarr_

Chapter thirty four: Ominous Intermissions, one short and one longer

It was early in the morning, and the camp was full of newly woken men and women, packing up tents and eating the last of their simple breakfast. Today was an important day, the High Keeper had said.

Said man watched as his forces filed onto the fifteen longships which lay docked by the harbour. Sleek vessels, made from pinewood and designed for speed and versatility, they were capable of frightening velocities once in the air, and were a large part of why the Varangian fleet was something to be feared. They now served as troop transportation for three hundred Vigilants. A mighty strike force, a purification force, even now practicing on their spells. They had been rather hastily recruited and trained, but they would suffice. Albion was under vampiric control, but not for long.

The moment of battle came too soon, as it always did. The Vigilants lined up in groups of three, each with a healer, a defender and a cleanser, though all could wield a mace and take a hit. The High Keeper looked them over from his elevated perch on top of an abandoned wagon; the ships had left already.

"Brothers and sisters, it is time!" a short cheer commenced. "Albion, ravaged by war and beset by undead horrors, shall soon be freed and purified!" this cheer was considerably longer.

"I know we can do this. We are ready. They are not. We possess magics from beyond this world, and the gods watch over us! They lounge now, in their lairs, thinking themselves safe. We shall prove them wrong, when our holy light burns them, our blessed steel smites them, and our united front turns their prey against them!" the cheering was very encouraging. The new ones were getting riled up, and ready. He raised his hand, holding his warhammer above his head.

"For the vigil!"

The Vigilants answered as one. "Let none escape our light!"

And thus, they marched forth. The High Keeper could not help but smile; their victory was all but assured. After all, he had trained them.

 _You should not be so sure, Keeper. You know as well as I do that vampires are not to be underestimated._

'Of course, my lord, but rest assured that I will lead these men and women to victory. The vampires in this land may be powerful, but this is the largest strike force since the Scarlet nights! We will win, and your light shall spread.'

 _Very well, keeper. I shall put my trust in your abilities, once more. Call for my help should you fail._

'Of course, my Lord.'

Behind him, a small and bent man was furiously chipping away at a large chunk of granite. The inscription, when it was done, would mark this bay as the vigilant landing site for the historians of the future.

* * *

The first village provided little resistance. The thralls were quickly pacified, and the sole vampire there was reduced to ash with no deaths and only one casualty, which was swiftly healed. The village secured, four squads were left behind to keep the population safe and assist in the defence of a strategic entry and exit point.

The main force continued westward, liberating thralls and purifying settlements as they went. Vampires being quite competitive creatures by their nature, it took several days before the Vigil ran into any significant resistance. By that point, the marching force numbered two hundred and fifty-five, having lost a total of fifteen vigilants to various foes and leaving the rest behind to secure strategic locations.

The walled town before them was called Scipeton, according to the decrepit sign by the gate. And it was filled to the brim with thralls, with the vampires holding out in the town hall, now corrupted and used for its spacious interior and many rooms in the basement. The scouts reported almost no vampires on the walls, but that was not much to go on. With these many thralls, there had to be over thirty of them in there.

The High keeper made sure the troops' morale was high, though several of them would likely meet their end fighting for the cause today. Together with the rest of the keepers, of which there were five, each in command of sixty fighters, he planned out the assault.

On the eighth day of the invasion, the siege began. Thirty cleansers called forth a rain of paralysing and cleansing magic, showering the troops on the walls in holy light. Simultaneously, defenders clad in steel plate armour and wielding steel maces struck the gate, breaking through with the aid of the High Keeper, who crushed the thick oak planks like they were rotten with his warhammer. He was first through the gate and into the town, which was good for both morale and fun.

It had been a long while since he had been in a good fight.

Securing houses along the way, the defenders moved on when all inside were either knocked unconscious or convinced to give up. Usually, the former was the case, given most of the town being enthralled. After the defenders came three squads of cleansers and healers, systematically loosening the bonds of thraldom from the townsfolk and healing their injuries. This tactic proved very effective, with only one defender being seriously hurt from a surprise attack, and the healers patched him up quickly.

Effective or not, the tactic was not quiet. When around a third of the town was cleansed of the thralls, the vampires were well and truly awake. The incoming horde of skeletons, reanimated corpses and more thralls proved that.

The overwhelming numbers began to show, with each vigilant being outnumbered three to one. The High Keeper chuckled. Sending thralls and undead to fight vigilants? He pitied the vampire fools.

The vigilants, true to their training, formed squads. Thus began what would have been called a massacre, had the enemy been alive. The defenders would attract the attention of a few enemies, and hold them off while the cleanser released the thralls and disintegrated the undead. The healer would call forth a circle of protection and keep his squadmates alive and kicking.

It was tried and tested, a tactic used by vigilants for several decades, and they had refined it to an art form. The high keeper was very proud, seeing his forces out there in the field. This was why he had only brought the elite for this mission. No mistakes.

And so, within ten minutes the horde had dwindled substantially, and the vampires themselves joined the fray. Reluctant to enter the burning rays of the sun, they sent forth spears of ice and bolts of lightning from within the shade of the town hall. Defenders raised wards to protect their more vulnerable squadmates, whilst the healers went into overdrive trying to heal everyone who had been hit by the deadly projectiles. Cleansers focused on striking back, and yellow orbs of Sun fire flew true, forcing back the undead mages. The line had weakened, though, and the thralls and undead took advantage of this in a mad push.

The High keeper was having none of that, and charged in, releasing a battlecry. Around him, undead became ash and thralls were driven off, and when he lacked opponents close by he called forth a circle of protection and sent spell after spell into the town hall, keeping the vampires' spells off of the other vigilants, who could concentrate on repelling the horde.

Said horde grew ever smaller, as thralls were set free and undead purified. Only when less than twenty thralls and fifty undead remained did the vampires deem the battlefield ready. That, or they figured that mindless undead and stupid thralls were not going to work against this force.

Attacking in the day was extremely beneficial for the vigilants, as always. Each vampire groaned under the burning rays of the sun, and they moved only slightly faster than mortals would. Still, they made quite the fearsome sight, welling up through the town hall doors like a torrent of darkness, red beams of Drain Life spells finding their ways to the vigilants.

Still, like every other undead, they were driven back by holy spells. Seven of them had fallen before they were all out of the town hall, and more continued to fall. They took vigilants with them, though; some of them were strong of will, enough to break through the circles of protection and get at the unarmoured casters when the defenders were occupied.

When it was all over, roughly thirty five vampires had met their end, and taken eighteen vigilants with them, mostly healers. Many more were wounded, but they would be healed once they returned to the base camp. The High keeper surveyed the town, decimated by the undead, enthralled and now released. Families slowly exited their homes, instructed to stay inside until the battle was won, and began sullenly searching for their loved ones in the piles of bodies and other buildings.

Several wept openly when they found their relatives, used as cattle by the undead, gone now from this world forever. Others praised the Founder, who had sent these armoured men to aid them in their plight.

The High keeper stayed in the town for a few hours, called for a few groups of healers to aid further in the recovery of the hurt civilians, and ordered a few of the junior vigilants to search the town for any hidden enemies. Then, he walked back to the base camp, thanked his lord for protecting so many, washed himself of the blood, guts and ash which had stained him, and slept for a few hours dreamlessly.

 _Viewpoint change!_

Faelar had sand in his boots, his newly acquired gleaming breastplate was half a size too big, and the helmet his commander had insisted he wear was almost unbearably hot in the desert heat. Still, he continued his work, fighting a constant battle to keep his sand schooner upright and headed due west.

If he fell behind his formation, they would not stop to wait for him. He would be discarded as a weakling, unfit to follow the great elven race into their glorious future as they once again would wander the forests of their ancestors and drink the water from the hidden springs they had named holy in ages gone by.

And all thanks to their new leader.

He had descended from the heavens to them in a great explosion almost two decades ago. It had taken out a frigate in the Great Fleet, and he had been picked up by them when he displayed unknown powers and expressed friendliness.

He had gone on to convert almost all the captains to his cause, and then seized power from the council of elders in a quick and relatively bloodless coup. After that matter had been dealt with, the Justiciar (for that was what he claimed to be his title) had turned his, and the rest of the elves' gazes westward. And now, after a hectic twelve years of preparation for war, it was finally time.

Pulled from his musings by a groaning rope, Faelar ran across the deck to secure it before the great wind the Justiciar had ordered conjured up caused it to tear loose. Soon, they would commence the invasion.

Soon, humans everywhere would give way to their rightful overlords.

The Great Crusade was coming.

 **End of chapter 35**

 **Author's Comments:**

 **Well, this took too long. As always, I suppose. No matter, it is here now. Short, maybe strange, and without Ysmir or Louise. Still, it is something.**

 **THERE ARE TWO EASTER EGGS IN THIS CHAPTER. FIND EITHER AND GET AN HONORARY MENTION AND SOME INFLUENCE OVER NEXT ARC.**

 **Ossa out.**


	36. Chapter 36: Everything is going well

**Quick updates are a thing when I have no imminent test/horrific amount of schoolwork/farm chores to do!**

 **First half of the chapter inspired by a certain friendly little chap from down under. You know who you are.**

Chapter thirty-six: Everything is going well, for some

"No, no, no! You are holding the daggers like you are going to use them to chop down a tree! Softer, child. Think of the blade like a bird: if you strangle it, it will die, and if you hold it too loosely, it will escape your paw! Either way, you will be without weapon, and you kind cannot fall back on their claws!"

Louise adjusted her grip until her feline instructor was satisfied, and sighed internally. Asking Q'jaed for training might not have been the wisest idea. She was improving, but had to fight the urge to blow her instructor into small, meaty chunks on an hourly basis.

Ysmir was watching the two others from beside their tent, sitting relaxed with his back against a tree. It was nice to see a master at his craft teach his friend. Being only passingly familiar with daggers and swords, he was happy to see Louise taught by someone skilled. After all, once they cured her vampirism she would no longer be able to rely on inhuman stamina, speed and agility to compensate for lack of skill.

"Good, good! But stay calm; one who fights in wrath is easily struck down by the simplest feint!"

Louise grit her teeth and lunged toward her instructor, her blade aimed at his stomach. Q'jaed spun round, grabbing her wrist, and used his momentum to send her tumbling on the ground.

"In battle, try to keep your opponent on his toes. Surprise him, and he will make mistakes. You thought I would avoid your stab, and were surprised when I countered it. Look where that brought you."

Standing up and brushing the dirt off of her clothes, Louise started circling, which Q'jaed immediately mirrored. He continued talking as he walked, his voice remaining playful.

"The long dagger, or short sword, is an excellent weapon; decent in a straight fight, good in an ambush, with longer reach than a simple knife, and it upholds the illusion that you are one who fights fairly."

Louise dashed toward him, and tried to slice at his leg, but the attack was deflected when the instructor parried with his black longsword. Knowing from experience that a swordfight with the cat man was a very bad idea, she jumped back, and resumed circling.

"Walk with a sword, long or short, at your hip, and civilized people think you honourable. Nords, like your familiar, see the sword as a weapon of skill, whereas a mace shows brute strength and the axe a mix of both. This is not very correct, but swords do require less strength and more skill than most other weapons, bar maybe daggers."

Q'jaed struck out with the flat of his sword, hitting Louise on her right ankle and breaking her balance. As she fell, he drew back to his previous spot.

"It is hard to outright block an attack with only one hand, little one. But parrying and dodging can and should always be done. Your familiar is in heavy armour; he could walk across a battlefield with little danger to himself, unless he finds a skilled opponent who knows where to strike."

Ysmir nodded, watching as Louise got up from the ground again, as the Khajiit continued lecturing. Both instructor and trainee were moving with extreme grace and speed, from decades of practice and supernatural powers respectively.

"You and I, we use lighter and less protective armour. It is a trade-off: more speed, higher degree of movement, and greater agility, but lesser protection. Whereas he can block, we should dodge whenever possible."

Here, as Louise had gotten into her battle stance again, Q'jaed waved Ysmir forward.

"When in light armour, as a general rule it is unwise to fight a more skilled opponent in light armour, and since this one seriously doubt you are going to face anyone so skilled as Q'jaed, it would do you better to train with your familiar. Besides, should you get a lucky hit in, he can heal himself."

Backing off to give them more room, he continued.

"Now, before you start fighting, try to find the weak points in his armour. Where do you think they are?"

Louise did not need to think for long. "The joints. Arm pits. Where the different pieces meet."

The Khajiit grinned, showing off his teeth. "Very good. Try to strike there. He cannot fight very well with a hole in him, no matter where it is."

Ysmir raised his shield and mace, and Louise began circling, feinting now and again to keep him on his toes. Ysmir slowly turned, making sure to keep facing her. His helmet was imposing, true, but the field of vision in that thing was not wide.

Thinking to utilize her smaller size and vastly superior speed, Louise dashed forth, dodged the swung mace and threw herself under the blocking shield. As Ysmir turned, she jumped, her unnatural power sending her up to perch on his left pauldron. When he bent over to dislodge her, she stomped down on the back of his helmet, making him lose balance and stagger backward. Q'jaed laughed and clapped.

"Marvellous! Excellent! I think you have a talent for fighting heavy opponents, girl!"

Louise smiled, and curtsied in jest. Ysmir spoke up.

"Of course, in a real fight I would not act as I did now. You would have been caught in a Repel Undead spell almost instantly, if I had not used the Thu'um to strike you down already. Defeating common warriors with martial tactics is all well and good, but the next training session will be on the arcane."

The cat man shuddered. "I do not like magic much. You will not use me in those lessons."

Louise, on the other hand, was very pleased with herself. Her skill and knowledge pools were both increasing much more rapidly than when she attended the academy, most likely since this was magic she could actually perform.

Truly, the journey seemed to be one of excellent fortune.

 _Viewpoint change!_

King Joseph was not happy. He was tired, his back hurt, the horrible fact that he was sleeping in the _stables_ of all places the inn had to offer was hitting him like a charging rhino, and his travel companions had been talking nonstop for the last three hours.

It had started relatively innocently. Normal conversation, nothing pleasant to listen to, but he could tune it out like he had used to do with the incessant nagging of his advisors. Then, it got so, so much worse with a simple question.

"So, where do you come from?" When Frea decided to give him back his wand, the first thing he would do was explode the head of that Serana woman.

Their discussion had been animate, impossible to block out, and worst of all, _it was slightly interesting_. Not so interesting that he would want to join in, thank Founder, but enough that he could not keep himself from listening to them. Even if half the words they were speaking made no sense.

They had several theories, he got that. Apparently they were from similar places but not the same, since Frea had never heard of Serana's father, who was apparently a lord. Serana had heard of the island Frea lived on, though, but never visited it.

Neither commented on how Serana's eyes glowed in the dark, or how Frea now and then spoke in a different tone of voice with vastly increased vocabulary.

By now, they were just telling each other stories. Frea was listening intently as Serana described some place called the Soul cairn. It sounded awful. Just like their speaking.

The king of Gallia, one of the most powerful men alive and by his own reckoning quite mentally unsound, forced down his pride and stuffed his ears with some softer pieces of hay, laid down and tried to fall asleep.

Behind him, Frea paused in her explanation of her powers and their origin to look at the writhing body of her charge. "Ah, he reminds me so of Neloth, but duller."

"I heard that, you bunch-backed toad!"

"You're one to talk, you could make the Greedy man afraid of losing his title!"

Serana pinched her nose bridge, and then raised her hands to call for silence. "Please, you two. Surely you can at least act like functioning adults? Please, Frea, go back to your fascinating explanation."

Joseph grumbled, but fell asleep soon, whilst the women continued the talk.

"So, as I was saying, we had no way of defending ourselves against Miraak and his foul sorcery. Not to mention the occasional dragon attack from his pets, on short excursions from apocrypha. We were down to only myself, my father the shaman, and a little girl. Then, my father had a vision from the All-father, showing him a way to save the village and the island. For the plan to work, he needed a dragon, and a champion to fight the evil Miraak. It was me or a ten-year-old. I volunteered."

"So, what did he do?"

"We waited until the next dragon attack, where my father brought it down with magic, and I slew the beast. Just as his soul and essence were leaving the mortal plane to be resurrected by Miraak, my father manged to… redirect the soul. It took a lot of power, but he trapped the dragon's soul in my body, and fused us together."

"Why in the name of Molag Bal did you two do that?!"

"Well, Miraak was dragonborn. He had the soul of a dragon in a mortal body, and he could use his nature to absorb other dragon souls into himself, use the Thu'um, and apparently do many other things. As a… synthetic dragonborn, I can also use those abilities, but I lack his extreme strength, hardiness and so on. And, of course, I have two souls trapped inside one body. That I have not gone insane yet is a testament to my willpower."

Frea's eyes began to glow softly here, and her voice lowered an octave. "We attempt to cooperate, when possible. I have grown to accept this condition; after all, what is whatever is left of her life to one who has existed since the dawn? I am Sah-rot-aar."

 _Viewpoint change!_

Everything was going terribly. Eight sanctuaries, cleaned out in just a single week. At least thirty of her subordinates had been slaughtered, and the enemy was getting dangerously close to Newcastle itself. Very few scouts returned alive, and those that did had wildly different reports to tell: some spoke of mage troops in plate mail, using protective magic and maces to great efficiency. Others talked of cultist-like mages, returning their companions from the brink of death within a matter of seconds, and spreading unnatural fear into their enemies. Most frightening were the accounts of what one scout claimed were called cleansers, who could apparently reduce their enemies to ash from a great distance, and wrest control of thralls.

All in all, there seemed to either be several different groups of fighters, or one with many specialized troops. Accounts on enemy strength also varied, from as few as a hundred to an unending army, spelling doom for all undead in Albion.

Lady Sheffield was not happy. She had had such a good thing going; the resistance had pulled back to the Sherwood, where they could be kept from doing any harm, and she and her children had a small country of more or less willing subjects to feed from. Now, it seemed as if she would lose it all just as quickly as she had gained it when she killed Cromwell and turned his Reconquista into her pawns. She was on edge, screaming orders at her forces and occasionally taking a few seconds to strangle the closest thrall until she had worked out a little rage.

It was on the first day of the second week of the invasion that the messenger reached her court. She was discussing the merits of escaping the country with her advisors, who suggested against it, when he burst into the room. Since he was one of her underlings, she waved to let him know to speak.

"My queen, I come from the village of Cheddar, since three months held by our forces, but no more. The enemies attacked us yesterday, and I was the only vampiric survivor."

One of her advisors scoffed. "You mean to tell us you defeated them by yourself?"

"No, sir. They took the village with barely any resistance. None of our scouts had warned us, and we were totally unprepared. They let me go, once the others were ash. To bring a message."

Sheffield was interested. Would her enemies try to get her to surrender? In that case, they would find themselves wanting. "What is this message?"

The messenger would likely have paled, had he not already been white as a sheet from undeath. He approached her throne, bowed, and handed her a sealed scroll. She broke the seal, and rolled it out to read.

 _You have perverted this land, vampire. We have come to make it right again. No matter your forces, you will have no chance against us. Our zeal fuels our righteous crusade. When the day is won and your hold on this land is broken, when the people are free of your terror, they will spread our name._

 _We keep the vigil, and we are the vigil. May his mercy be upon you, for we have none to spare._

 **End of chapter 36**

 **Author's comments:**

 **You know, there's a very well known saying in Sweden. It goes 'One who waits for something good, never waits for too long'.**

 **I despise this saying. If whatever you're waiting on is good, you are ALWAYS waiting too long, damn it!**

 **So here, suck on this for a little while. There are no new Easter eggs in this chapter, so ration to ones from last time.**

 **See you guys later.**

 **Ossa out!**


	37. Chapter 37: Fateful meetings

**Yes, I know, there's no excuse. I just… kinda forgot? Fell out of the mood? Had a lot to do over the summer?**

 **Meh, whatever. The best apology is a new chapter.**

Chapter thirty-seven: Fateful meetings

The Trickster giggled to himself as he observed the little vampire best the big Nord as the cat laughed. Those three were now well on their way to the port they had used to travel to Albion, just a few short weeks before. Now, they would be looking for passage northeast, to the forests and mountains of Varangia, in search of a Shrine that apparently could cure vampirism.

He had no idea if this was true, and that was exciting. Having lived through thousands of lifetimes in the same world, and having the powers he possessed, being unsure of something was a feeling he had not experienced for an era.

As the three travellers, one Nord, one Khajiit and one vampire, settled down by the campfire to discuss their next move, he moved to observe someone else. It would be funnier if he did not know their plans.

Turning his head to the north, he saw a man in armoured robes, wielding a massive warhammer. He was coordinating the siege of a castle with several others in matching colours. Ah, the vigilants. So driven, so zealous, so sadly uncompromising. Their hate of the Daedra bordered on fanaticism, when they could so easily have forged alliances with at least some of the princes.

Merida in particular would have loved their "Burn first, salt later, talk never" approach to undead.

Ah, but they were always fun nonetheless. He could hardly wait for the big battle of Albion. Two champions, each without their summoner with them. A Nightblade Vampire, fighting a holy Crusader. He had seen those character types do battle before, many times. The result was usually victory for the crusader, but this time the vampire had the upper hand…

The battle, he thought, would prove interesting.

He then turned his gaze to the fifth and last champion, who was dragging her summoner along a muddy road to Tristania. Travelling with them was Serana, who had come with the Nightblade when Cromwell called her forth. An unforeseen circumstance. An interesting fluke.

They were just a few leagues from the camping site of Ysmir, Louise and Q'jaed. Oh, it would be so easy to have them meet up! Just a few dancing lights in the distance, a whispered voice, maybe an illusion or two… but would it be worth it? Serana would eventually find Ysmir, since she was actively looking for him, and time was not a concern for her ilk. Frea might follow on their quest. Joseph would probably have little say in the matter.

But how would the Varangians react to a king being dragged across their borders? With hostility? Mirth? He could not risk their adventure ending so soon, on the off chance they provoked the northerners…

Oh, what should he do…?

 _Viewpoint change!_

It was early in the morning, and the chill of the desert night still hung over the camp. The inhabitants were stirring, and one after one they wandered over to the biggest ship in the fleet. As the sun rose above the dunes, it illuminated the massive ship. With six masts, divided over the three decks conjoined in the afts, the only reason it could keep up with the much more nimble schooners was the large amount of wind stones embedded in its hull. They were not enough for it to fly properly, but gliding across the sands had been more than enough for the elves since they were forced into the desert.

As the army and suppliers formed a crowd by the aft, the drapes of the large window in the stern of the ship were drawn back, and the Justiciar appeared before them, his golden skin almost shimmering in the morning sun. Cheering commenced, but he waved them down, and spoke to his army.

"My brothers and sisters! Today, we leave the desert behind. Today, we begin the retaking of our lands!"

More cheering. The Justiciar revelled in it for a moment, before letting the noise die down.

"I understand some of you are worried that we will have to leave our ships behind. Fear not! In the hold of this very vessel, we carry the results of fifteen months of tireless work on our arcanists' part: enough wind stones to easily allow your ships true flight!"

The cheering recommenced, and then the work began. Each pilot was given a number of wind stones, based on the size of their ship and the weight of their cargo, to be installed under the directions of the arcanists.

The Justiciar looked out over his navy. He had seven hundred good men here, with fifty two arcanists divided up among the ships. Back in Tamriel, that number wouldn't be even close to enough to even take the imperial city. However, the elves of this world were significantly more powerful in the magical arts than even the altmer.

The thought had at first infuriated him. A race where even their most soldierly grunts used magic on the level of a highly trained Thalmor wizard. Their arcanists, as they called their specialized mages, were beyond anything he had ever seen. It was good that they fell to racial propaganda as easily as everyone else. They were not Altmer, nor descended from the Old Ehlnofey, but in a way they, too, were elves. He had found supporters within their ranks, and he could see himself leading their civilization into a golden age of unparalleled power and human subjugation for the next century or two.

All in all, being transported into this strange realm was turning out to be a blessing in disguise. Back home, he would not be in command of such a large or such a potent force, and even if he had, he would likely have been killed off by a power hungry subordinate.

He turned, and re-entered his chambers. There was much to plan. Thus, he did not see how, for the second time in a month, the sun seemed to redden and lose a portion of its intensity.

 _Viewpoint change!_

If the sun was weakened over the edges of the desert, it was barely visible in the skies above Albion. The reddish circle high in the sky was all that told the vigilants that it was noon, and not late in the evening. Having counted on the inherent weakness of their undead, the vigilants had attacked Newcastle by early day, but found themselves beaten back when the vampires somehow managed to block out the sun.

One of the first things hammered into the skull of a prospective recruit was to never, ever fight vampires by night. Seeing as they had little choice now, some of the younger vigilants began to panic, their discipline giving way under the pressure. The once two hundred and fifty strong force had been halved, but the casualties were mostly from the ranks of the weaklings, and the elites gave significantly better than they got.

Since fighting vampires in a large group whilst outnumbered was a very quick way of being hit with massively powerful and destructive spells, the Keepers had ordered their forces to break up into groups, each consisting of three squads of three, as far as possible. They moved throughout the city like a wildfire, and though they were sometimes forced back by vampires or thralls the forces of the vigilants slowly but surely continued onwards.

The High Keeper was there with his troops, his warhammer painting the cobblestones red with vampire blood. He had no idea how the vampires had managed to block out the sun, nor how long it would last, and thus had no idea what to do other than continue onwards.

The battle was going relatively well, at least. Though runners from his subordinate Keepers reported high losses, they kept pushing forward. He had taught them well. Soon, they would have cleared out a third of the city, and his group was approaching the castle itself. A continuous stream of ice and lightning flew from the top of the walls, where at least fifty vampires were bombarding the vigilants below. The gate was open, but with the drawbridge up access was limited to the undead who could jump the six meters across the moat.

And jump they did. In swarms. It might not have done them any good against the High Keeper in his Guardian Circle, but it was still a sight to see: undead soaring across the moat like ravens and then dying like flies when they came within the reach of his warhammer, if his spells had not made them ash beforehand.

The High Keeper was in his element, constantly adding to the wall of corpses beginning to form around his Circle, and thus was a little distracted. Thankfully for him, his Lord looked out for his favourite mortal.

 _Dodge left!_

Following the command without question, the High Keeper was shocked to see the black shaft of an arrow sticking out of the ground where he had stood a moment before. Its brother came soon, forcing him to dodge yet again, and whilst renewing his Circle he searched for the archer.

It did not take him long to find her. A cloaked figure stood atop the highest tower, sending arrow after arrow flying down below. He recognized the glimmer of her weapon from his Lord's description. So, the lady Sheffield was not above fighting personally? Interesting…

These thoughts only stayed in his mind for the second or so it took him to prepare a hopefully fatal shot of Vampire's Bane. Directing the spell towards the archer, he continued the slaughter.

There were still plenty of undead to slay.

 _Viewpoint change!_

Sheffield saw the golden orb shoot from the fingers of her enemy toward her, and leapt from the tower to the roof of another. The spell struck right as she landed, creating an explosion of holy magic which engulfed the spot where she had stood. For the fourth time today, she cursed the fact that Vampire's bane looked identical to its much weaker variant Sunfire whilst in flight.

Drawing her bow again, she took stock of the situation whilst searching for a good target. She was losing, slowly but surely. Her undead minions, both vampiric and otherwise, rarely lasted long against the enemy mages, who were spewing out deadly magics left and right. They were hard to kill, too, since they hid behind their heavily armoured comrades whenever they could.

Her eyes found a mage, out on his own, having called up a small golden circle around himself but forgot to bring his squadmates. Her arrow pierced his throat just as he was about to renew his circle, and he was engulfed by her horde of darkness as his magic died along with him.

Still, the commander of the force held fast, slowly beating her minions back with the strength of three men; his outline shimmered of blue armament spells, his hands spewed forth circle after circle of Protection and orb after orb of Sunfire and Vampire's bane, and if she ever managed to hit him despite the almost supernatural degree of dodging he was displaying, he healed the wound in a moment.

He truly was her match; her athletics, archery and destructive magic versus his strength, warhammer and holy spells. If anything, that proved her suspicions: the only other one in this world who had come close to beating her and her minions was not of this world at all. Logic, along with the distinctly wandless magic she was seeing, said that this was true for this man as well.

She loosened another arrow, watching it slam through the arm of one of the armoured assailants. She growled, watching the healer next to him pull the arrow out and closing the wound like it was nothing.

Her minions were falling, the enemy was pressing towards the castle. Perchance it was time to use the escape tunnel.

 _Viewpoint change!_

Ysmir scowled at the sun as it shone above the treetops. It was significantly more red than usual, and he was quite certain it had been shining brighter yesterday when he was trying to sleep.

Q'jaed and Louise were still asleep, one in the tent away from the light, and one up in a nearby tree. Ysmir himself had woken up from a strange smell. He found that someone had placed a bowl of Elsweyr fondue on a nearby rock. It was still hot when he found it, and threw it away before his companions could see it.

He had a suspicion, but no way to prove it.

Sitting down by the tree next to the tent and looking in his pack for another dose of stamina poison, the Nord took a moment to appreciate the surrounding wilderness. Rolling hills, leafy oaks and not a single conifer in sight… it reminded him of southern Cyrodiil, in a way. These lands lacked the untamed quality of Skyrim's nature, and he felt a small yearning for the forests of his youth.

Though a hero of all Tamriel, a person possibly more instrumental to the function of the empire than the emperor himself, he had always thought of himself as a lumberjack who had greatness thrust upon him. Oh, he had adapted, to be sure, but he never felt quite at home in the cities, preferring the peaceful and raw countryside.

His hand finally grasped the distinctive bottle he was looking for, and withdrew it from his bag.

As sleep claimed him once more, he did not hear nor smell the trio approaching the camp from the west, goaded on by a trickster-empowered smell of delicious fondue.

After all, everyone loved fondue.

 **Author's notes:**

 **Not that long, but it's something, and I don't want to keep you waiting longer than necessary.**

 **See you soonish. Ossa out!**


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